Not Your Average Cinderella
by GirlInTheMask
Summary: When Loki is rescued by a mysterious masked woman, he's determined to find out who she is and make her his bride. Little does he know that his heroine is a servant girl named for ashes. Pre-Thor or AU, whichever one you want.
1. A Dream Without Meaning

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything having to do with the movies or comics. All belongs to Marvel._

_A/N #1: This isn't a songfic, but I decided to name some of the chapters after songs I thought fit perfectly. If it's named after a song, there will be an asterisk next to it._

_A/N #2: As for my oc's, no, I didn't make any of the names up. They're all Old Norse._

_A/N #3: Since time flows differently in Asgard, whenever I use the words "year, month, etc." in this story, I'm referring to the time measurement used there._

_Now, without further ado, enjoy!_

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**Not Your Average Cinderella**

Prologue – A Dream Without Meaning

Nighttime had fallen on Asgard, one of the nine realms of the cosmos, and most of its people had fallen into a slumber ever since the vast expanse above the realm had completely turned from a fine blue to a very dark black. The only thing breaking the darkness was the faint light of a thousand stars, dotted across the sky and dazzling those who took the time to behold them and appreciate their beauty. The mere stillness of it all was enough to reflect the peace and prosperity that the people of this realm had enjoyed for years, ever since their beloved king, the mighty Odin, had won the great war against the barbaric Frost Giants of Jotunheim by enacting a seal to prevent them from leaving their own realm. However, unbeknownst to almost everyone in Asgard, one of their fellow citizens – despite her unfavorable circumstances – would eventually prove to be a great heroine for the realm in her own right.

She was asleep. Of that, she was certain. Whether she would dream or not, it did not matter. She was only content with letting her body rest after a hard day's work. Even in her current state of reduced consciousness, a small smile slowly spread itself across her lips, almost as if in the back of her mind she wanted to make her ease known – though she was alone – before surrendering herself completely. The last thing she remembered before doing so was the feel of the warm embers behind her, giving her the heat she often enjoyed against her back before the fire completely died down.

The next thing she knew, she felt as though she was lying not on a makeshift mattress, but on something that almost enfolded her in its embrace without completely covering her like a blanket. Sweet, earthy scents were caught by her sense of smell, her sense of touch felt the soft breeze of a wave of wind that was neither warm nor cool, and her ears picked up the faint sound of birds chirping a morning song. Feeling the inevitable, instinctive need to know where she was, she opened her eyes with as much effort as opening a flab of stone with her hands, and beheld a sight completely different from that she saw before.

She found herself lying on the greenest and most comfortable grass she had ever seen and felt, spreading for miles in all directions around her, like a sea of green. In the distance, she could see a chain of mountains, some dotted with trees at the base. Above her she saw the widespread blue of the sky, with very few clouds to be seen. Wanting to look around even more, she raised herself into a sitting position and hugged her knees to her chest, seeing now that she was wearing a plain, unadorned, white dress with long sleeves and a skirt reaching down to her ankles. She wore no shoes; instead her bare feet touched the ground beneath her, which was surprisingly soft and comforting. Her long hair, which she usually kept in a braid, was now loose and letting the mild wind get hold of it.

She looked to the right and saw a large, beautiful palace made of white marble stone, a solitary building standing in what seemed to otherwise be only wilderness, and looking to be a strong, formidable fortress as well as a serene place to live. She wondered who could live there if not the mighty Odin and his family – though they lived in a much more massive palace made of gold rather than marble – when curiosity aroused her to look the other way.

More green and mountains were what she saw, stretching as if to the horizon, when something else caught her eye. She looked up and saw, to her almost childlike delight, three magnificent looking butterflies. They were each a different color from the other: pink, purple, and blue. There wings were etched with black, but she could almost swear she saw tiny jewels etched into them as well. And wherever they flew, a short sparkling trail with the respective coloring of each followed all of them.

Getting the idea that they might be wanting her to follow them, she slowly stood up, and saw them fly slowly away from her. She followed her initial feelings and walked behind them, eager to know where they might lead her. She followed them down a slopping hill where a field of wildflowers bearing all sorts of colors greeted her. One white flower she saw beneath her was so exquisite she couldn't resist the temptation to pick it and put it in her hair. When she then saw that the butterflies were getting ahead of her, she ran through the flowers until she was right behind them again.

She followed them for what seemed a long time, yet short as well, through a forest of trees, each of which bore green leaves as well as a few pink and white blossoms. She then passed through another green field, wondering as she did so many times already what these enchanting creatures could possibly be leading her to, when she came upon perhaps the most beautiful horse she'd ever seen.

It was a mare, she could tell, with a pristine white coat and a mane and tail of the same color. It's large, brown eyes laid on hers, and she immediately felt almost mesmerized as she strode over to the horse, her hand slowly reaching out to touch her. When at last she was right in front of her, and she laid her hand on the horse's muzzle, she didn't shy away as she would have expected of a wild horse. Instead, she greeted the gentle touch, and in return rested her muzzle over her shoulder, allowing her to stroke her tender yet strong neck. She then took a step back and planted a kiss on the horse's face before giving it a scratch.

Then, almost as if she were invited as well as once again being curious, she walked over to the horse's side, grabbed onto her mane, and jumped up across her back. She lifted her leg over and made sure she was in a good position, but before she could urge the horse forward, she seemed to know exactly what she wanted, as she walked forward without waiting for a command. Her rider couldn't help but smile.

Before long, she was trotting, then cantering, and then galloping through the beautiful land of green, leaning forward with her hands gripping the horse's mane, and her knees locked into her sides to keep from falling. She found that she couldn't think of a time when she was happier and felt so free from the labor she was often plagued with. As she heard her horse's hooves thunder into the ground beneath her, and felt her long, silvery mane whip occasionally against her face, she came to believe that if she rode any faster, they would probably take off flying, and she wouldn't be surprised.

She was surprised, though, when she eventually saw and soon came upon an end to the previously endless green field. From what she could see judging by how far the opposite end was from the one she was on and by the sound of rushing water that seemed to be coming from below, it appeared to be a chasm with a large river at the bottom. Feeling the need to see for herself, she jumped down from the horse and then slowly and cautiously walked over to the edge. What immediately greeted her was an almost nausea-inducing drop from where she stood to the large, flowing river.

She turned around and headed back toward the horse, wanting to get away from the sight she'd just seen, when suddenly, just as she was about to touch her, the mare reared on her hind legs and let out a frightened neigh. She instantly backed away, startled at how this friendly and tame horse could suddenly turn on her in such a wild and sporadic way. But once she did, one of her feet touched empty air rather than the ground. Before she could do anything to catch herself, she turned around and, as if in slow motion, began plummeting to the river at the bottom of the chasm. She didn't scream. She only quickly put her arms in front of her face and shut her eyes, awaiting her imminent demise, but it never came.

Instead, the next time she opened her eyes, she found herself lying on what felt like hard ground, and saw nothing around her but black. She was now even more startled than she was before, and she quickly sat up, wanting desperately to know where she was despite seeing nothing but darkness. Still, she would find out where she was, and her first clue came to her when she turned fully around. She saw in the distance what looked to be three triangular windows in a row on both the left and right, all letting in dim light, but bright enough for her to see. She also saw what she believed to be the three butterflies from before, but the colorful trails they left were not as bright. Even so, she pulled herself up to her feet and, without hesitation, walked forward.

As she did, she began to have the ominous feeling that something unsettling was about to happen. It grew little by little with every step she took, as if every step was an additional stone in the building of her inner tension and her pounding heart was the hammer. She wanted to be prepared, but she still stepped back and put her arms up in fright once she reached the pool of light below one of the windows, and a giant wall of brilliant red flames flew up where the windows were. In a state of near panic, she looked around for the butterflies, and once she saw what she believed to be their colors, she immediately gathered her skirt in her hands and ran down the dark hallway, not knowing where they would lead her but deciding that any place was better than here.

She followed them as fast as her legs could carry her, running down hallways, passing corridors, and darting past corners in an attempt to make sure she didn't lose them. Everywhere she went, every location she encountered, was ablaze with the consuming fire she feared would take her in its hot, burning hold. Sometimes it almost seemed as if they were lashing out at her, causing dark brown spots to form on her white dress. The marble floor that once felt cold against her bare feet felt increasingly warmer, and though she followed the butterflies every step of the way, she began to despair of ever finding a way out of this burning building.

After getting past another corner, the number of which she long since lost count, her eyes widened and her heart threatened to beat out of her chest, for a massive wall of fire awaited her in front of what she believed to be a way out. But there was nowhere else for her to go, and she could feel the heat of the fire behind her as it threatened to entrap her. Suddenly, she remembered when her dress was damaged. She gently, then firmly, touched the spots where it had been burned, and felt no reaction. She then remembered further how she felt nothing when the flames licked her dress, and she wondered wildly if she would be able to pass through that wall of fire unharmed.

Still, she'd managed to make it this far, and the butterflies hadn't led her to harm before. Going against her instincts and instead gritting her teeth and tightening her hands into fists, she took a deep breath, and ran as fast as she could toward the fire before closing her eyes and leaping through it. She then tumbled down what felt like a flight of marble stairs, but still felt no pain as she descended. She soon found herself on her back, her stomach heaving, and her eyes still closed, not wishing to know what dreaded sort of fate awaited her after that near terrifying ordeal.

Even so, she forced herself to open her eyes to behold what appeared to be a great hall, devoid of its former glory she believed it must have once had. The only light illuminating the hall came from the wall of fire she'd just leaped through. There was no fire in the room itself, but it looked as though it had already passed through and consumed the entire scene before finally dying out. The marble was now dark gray and cracked, the banners hanging from the upstairs railing and from the ceiling were black, torn, and full of holes, and a sea of ashes covered nearly every inch of the floor. She wondered if she could see any sight anymore bleak and dark than the one before her, when she saw what appeared to be two bodies lying on the far side of the hall.

She quickly got back on her feet and hurried over to them, her heart beating in both fear and anxiety for what she would find. She then got down on her knees, and from what she initially saw, they all seemed charred and damaged beyond any possible healing. Still, she felt the irrepressible need to know who they once were. She slowly reached both her hands out and, though she hesitated at first, quickly rolled both of them onto their backs, and was immediately shocked at what she saw.

Though she couldn't see either of their faces clearly, through the seriously burned skin and even bits of bone here and there, she could make out that one was a man and the other a woman. She could also tell by their clothes that they were nobles, for despite the fact that they were torn, blackened, and burned, they still had bits of gold sprinkled in small places across them.

Almost as if out of nowhere, her heart leaped to her throat, and tears as hot as the flames that she'd somehow conquered formed in the back of her eyes, desperate to be released. Though she didn't know why she felt this way, since she could not tell who they were, she let them flow, as if they somehow might bring them back to life. But they didn't, and that only made her cry even harder. Even then, she couldn't help but wonder why. Was it because she was merely mourning their loss? The fact that she was beholding not one, but two dead bodies for the first time in her memory? Or could she have actually known them at one point despite not being able to tell who they were?

Not knowing the answers to any of these questions caused even more tears to descend down her cheeks and blur her vision. Would she ever escape this pit of despair? She feared she never would. But a faint, single hope in her heart encouraged her to look up, and she saw once again the three butterflies above her. Willing to do anything to get out of this dungeon of misery, she slowly stood up, and forced herself to move forward. She took no more than four steps before turning back and looking at the badly charred bodies, but she took a deep breath and turned back around.

She walked four more steps, but this time, instead of stopping willingly, she took a step back in fright for perhaps the third time in recent memory once she saw a pair of large, red eyes more menacing than any she'd ever seen flash at her. But instead of stepping on solid ground, she again tripped once her foot found nothing to step on. Though she tried to grab onto the slab of remaining marble, she found herself slowly falling into an abyss of nothingness.

But as she was falling, she thought she could see another pair of eyes at the top, much more different from the ones she saw before. These looked much softer, as well as frightened, as if for her, and green mixed with gray rather than red. She also believed she could see a single hand reaching out for her. Although she was already falling with little to no hope for rescue, she desperately reached out her own hand. But the two never touched. She opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out, no matter how hard she tried. She was only left with refreshed sorrow as she turned around to face the deep darkness of the void.

When she opened her eyes again, her eyes widened as she found herself in a much different location than before. She was not lying down on something, nor was she standing, or even on solid ground. Instead, she was enveloped ever so gently in the deep, otherworldly experience of being underwater. All around her she saw nothing but endless blue, and it appeared as though she was the only living being there. She saw no fish or other living creatures, or even a floor underneath. But she did see what appeared to be sun rays dancing before her eyes, inevitably encouraging her to look upward. To her great, rekindled happiness, she saw the surface of this new, strange world, the sun shining through it. Though she didn't see the butterflies, she reasoned that they might be above the surface, waiting for her.

But despite her best efforts, she still could not reach the surface, which now felt even further away than before. Her slowly changing vision eventually caused her to see only red and none of the blue that she previously saw, making her desperate to reach the surface, but to no avail. Instead, she then felt a slight something in the back of her throat, something that seemed to be causing it to close. Fearing she was going to lose consciousness, she gave every ounce of strength she had in her. But all that she had done proved to be in vain as she put her hands to her throat and closed her eyes, wishing that someone, or something, would take her out of this torment before she lost the will to live.

That was when her eyes flashed open, and she found herself staring up at the ceiling of a room, and that she was no longer in the dreadful underwater world of red. She swallowed in nervousness, wondering where she could possibly be now. But as she slowly looked around, she saw that she was rather in the most familiar of places. A wooden table stood at its usual spot in the room, with a chair sitting next to it. As she turned onto her left side, she realized that she was lying on a well-known, straw-filled mattress. Turning back over onto her right side, she saw the most recognizable part of the room. The fireplace, with its previous fire long since dead, stood right in front of her, some of its black cinders spilling out of the hearth, and the chimney behind it allowing the echo of the wind outside to enter into her presence. A poignant, haunting reminder of what she had to endure only recently.

She then felt her forehead, which apparently had once been covered with sweat, and then, in even more concern, she felt for her throat. To her relief, which she immediately released with a heavy sigh, it was still open, allowing her to breathe. All that she'd previously experienced was a dream. Well, at least it started out as one before slowly turning into a nightmare. Still, it felt so real, like she was actually there, like she could still feel the soft grass beneath her feet and the flames lash out at her, even now. And even more strange, it haunted her deeply, as if, as if she'd been in all three of those locations before. The grounds beside the grand, marble palace, the inside of the palace as it was burning, that underwater world, even those pairs of eyes that had stared at her. All of them felt faintly familiar. But how could she possibly think them familiar if she had no memory to speak of?

She wondered wildly what kind of dream this was, how it could make her feel so disturbed, when she noticed beyond one of the two windows that the day had started without waiting for her. That was when her heart began to race in nervousness, and she quickly got up as fast as she could, without bothering to stretch for she didn't even have time for that. All she knew was that she would likely get in trouble for waking up later than usual, though she knew her mistress wouldn't take her wild journey of a dream for an excuse.

She hastily hurried over to the cupboard that stood on the side of the room opposite of her, and took out a silver, medium-sized bowl. After which she took it to the water pump, which was, thankfully, right near the cupboard, and pumped water into the bowl. She then let it down on the table. But before she washed her face, she allowed the water to still, to reflect that familiar image of herself as a final act of assurance she wasn't dreaming. She saw her white shift, which she slept in, and her hair was unkempt and out of order, though she would fix that later. But the two parts of her reflection which stood out the most, were her cheeks, and what was on them.

Lifting one of her fingers to her right cheek, she touched it only for a moment before drawing it back, and saw the black soot covering its tip, the powder for which she was named. She had no real name of her own. At least, none that she knew of. Here, she was known only for what she slept in. Here, she was known as Aska: ashes.

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_Reviews would be appreciated._


	2. First Meeting

**Not Your Average Cinderella**

Chapter 1 – First Meeting

As the morning dawned over the rest of the realm of Asgard, the light of the now pale blue sky cast a shine on the golden palace which stood in the center of the realm, the home of Asgard's king, Odin, and his family. It was more massive and striking than any other building in the realm, and could be seen by almost all from near and far as it shone brilliantly in the morning light. But while it may have looked magnificent on the outside, inside the palace, a storm was brewing between Odin and perhaps the most stubborn of his subjects: his own son, Loki.

The great king sat in his throne room, the mighty image he usually donned for the public eye conspicuously absent. Instead, he sat on his throne with his head in his hand, his one eye closed and a look of pure frustration on his face. Beside him stood his gentle queen, Frigga, her hand on his shoulder trying to console him. The two had been awaiting their son's response to the most momentous news they'd given him for at least half an hour, but Loki had gone to his room to "think things over" as he had said.

Suddenly, someone came through one of the side doors, his face expressing nothing but nervousness. It was their older son, Thor, the crown prince of Asgard, though now he felt simply like any other subject, anxious over the volatile reaction he knew he'd get from his father once he told him what happened.

Both Odin and Frigga immediately turned toward him, and were instantly alarmed at seeing that Loki wasn't with Thor.

"Where is he?" Odin asked, the frustration in his voice clearly evident.

Thor hesitated for a moment, but he nonetheless mentally kicked himself into telling him, knowing there was no getting around this. "He's, not coming back," he replied.

His father wasn't going to have any of it. "What do you mean, he's not coming back?" he demanded.

Bracing himself for the worst, Thor replied, "I tried to talk to him but, he simply refused to come with me."

At this, Odin instantly stood from his throne, his anger quickly rising. "Confound that rebellious son of mine!" he exclaimed as he walked hastily down the steps, his voice echoing throughout the room, "I'll go speak to him myself!" He then walked past his firstborn and through the open doorway, and proceeded down the hall, determined to see to it that his other son would see it his way and no one else's, especially not his.

Following close behind him were two of his guards. Running over to him to be at his side was Frigga who, though she could feel the heat of anger emanating from her husband, was just as determined as he, though she wished to calm the situation rather than escalate it any further.

"Wait, dear!" she called out, "Please consider what you are about to do!"

"I consider everything before I do it!" Odin replied, not to be deterred.

"Odin, you cannot force him into this!"

"I can and I will!"

"But he's not just another subject! He's your son!" his wife pleaded with him.

"And as both he shall respect me and obey my orders," Odin replied with a bite in his voice, "or I shall take Mjolnir and beat him into submission!"

Despite the harshness that was in every word he said, Frigga gave even more effort at trying to get him to think of a different approach. "Since when has beating ever done any good?" she asked, "Much less raising your voice!"

"My voice will be the only one he will hear!" Odin replied. Frigga, now very disappointed with him, ceased to get him to reconsider with great reluctance. She hated being caught in the middle of a family argument, and could only wonder how this one would turn out as she, Odin, and the two guards behind them strode through the halls toward Loki's room, and perhaps a shouting match that the whole realm would hear.

They all soon came upon a pair of large golden doors with emeralds here and there. While Odin prepared his voice and his manner to meet and then quench the coming fire of conflict, Frigga prepared herself for the asking for assistance from both her husband and son.

"Loki!" Odin called out, calm but still frustrated, "It's your father! I must speak with you!"

Suddenly, they heard running footsteps echoing in the hallway behind them. Frigga turned to see that Thor had decided to follow them after all. He shouted anxiously, "Wait! You can't go in there he's…"

But he was too late. Odin had already opened the doors and was now marching inside. Though there was little Thor could do to prevent what would inevitably happen, he hurried inside after his parents and the guards. All four of them gasped as they saw that at least two sets of bed sheets had been knotted together, tied to one of the bedposts, and led out an open window. And Loki was nowhere in the room.

"He's not here," Thor admitted. But no one looked at him. In fact, they seemed to ignore him as they wondered wildly where the other prince was.

Odin went over to the window and looked out, amazed beyond belief, and clearly not in a good way. Though she couldn't see his face, Frigga could tell merely by the overwhelmingly intense unbelief his presence gave off that he was about to throw the most royal of fits if she didn't step in.

"Dearest," she said in the most relaxed voice she could muster, "I beg you, please remain calm."

As if in reply to her wishes, her husband slowly turned around to face his other son, appearing as though he was trying his hardest to be as calm as she was.

"Where is he Thor?" he asked, his tone frustrated but not as much as before, "Where did he go?"

Once again, Thor prepared himself for a gigantic outburst before replying uneasily, "I don't know. He wouldn't tell me."

Odin's eyes immediately widened. "You're telling me you _let_ him do this?!" he asked, the anger in his voice returning.

Without waiting for an answer, he turned to the two guards who had followed him. They both quickly stood straight, and eager to please their agitated king. "What shall we do Your Majesty?" one of them asked.

Odin wasted no time in giving his order. "Gather your men! And don't come back until you have him!"

Little did he know that while he was giving this order, a big black horse carrying a rider clothed in black and green, with a hood covering his head, was galloping away from the palace, the rider determined to do anything to be free from his gilded, golden cage of a home.

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Meanwhile, outside of a town about a half hour's ride from the palace, a rather fine looking house stood in front of a forest of green pine trees, which led to a grand meadow beyond. It had two stories and was made of firm gray stone, and it was owned by a former lady-in-waiting to the queen of Asgard, a widowed woman by the name of Lady Ylva. The lady herself sat inside the dining room. She certainly looked regal, with her newly washed face, high cheek bones, focused blue eyes, and her black braid which traveled down to her waist.

Yet, as her family was well used to, she also looked quite stern, strict, and cold. Her face seemed to be made of stone or white marble, as there was barely any hint of color to it, and she rarely smiled. Her eyes somehow often seemed to reflect a certain icy hardness inside of her. And she always wore black ever since the death of her husband. While her family at first took this to be a sign of respect toward him, with each passing year, it became clear that this new shadow of a figure was here to stay, and determined to maintain discipline and order at all costs.

At the table with her sat the only known family she had left, her two daughters, Brynja and Regin. While they were twins, they neither looked nor acted alike. Brynja, the older daughter, sat on her left. She had strawberry blond hair, shared her mother's high cheek bones, blue eyes, and regal demeanor, and wore a peach colored dress. Regin, the younger daughter, sat on her right. She had Ylva's black hair, but her eyes were brown. Her demeanor was more of one that was demure, and she wore a dark green dress. All three of them were eagerly awaiting their breakfast. Brynja, however, was bordering on intense impatience.

"Where in the realm of Asgard is that slower-than-snails girl with our food?!" she asked loudly.

Without turning her head, Ylva rested her cold eyes on her, which was more than enough to put Brynja in line without her mother's words. "Brynja," she said with a calm but stern voice, "what do I keep telling you about patience?"

Brynja breathed a heavy sigh of submission and replied, "Patience serves everyone, whether they be a lady, a mother, or a warrior." She then added, "But I still don't see why you've waited all this time to even think about letting us return to our real home."

"You know very well why I waited," Ylva replied, after an awkward, silent moment, "Much time may pass, but I will unfortunately have to live with your father's disgrace for the rest of my days."

Despite wanting to avoid the evident, and rather unusual, conflict, Regin spoke up, "I'm sure she's going as fast as she can."

"Well, she has only herself to blame," Ylva countered, "She should have been waiting for us when we came here rather than making us wait for her. That being said, Aska!"

"Coming!" she heard a voice in the hall behind her. Just then, into the room came the formerly ashen-faced girl. She'd since put on a dark gray tunic and skirt over her white shift – hoping the soot on it wouldn't be seen, and also pulled her hair back into its usual braid. She hurried in as fast as she was allowed, as she was carrying three full plates which she'd put together as fast as possible on a tray.

"I'm really sorry to have kept you all waiting," she said as she put the plates on the table in front of the respective person.

"Aska," Ylva spoke up, "you seem to have forgotten our drinks."

"And where are the salt and butter?!" Brynja asked, loudly again.

"Right, I'm sorry," Aska nodded, "I'm getting it all." She then rushed back down the hall toward the kitchen while Regin watched, her concern slowly showing on her face, before she turned toward her mother and sister.

"Forgive me but, must you both be so hard on her?" she asked respectfully.

"Must you be as sweet as honey toward everyone around you?" Ylva asked, clearly putting her off.

Regin didn't seem to care though. It was rather clear to her – as it had been throughout most of her life – that Ylva favored Brynja over her, despite the girl's tendencies to be flighty, empty-headed, and shallow.

Aska, however, soon returned with the drinks, salt, and butter, some of the hair in her braid starting to come loose, an indication that she was working too hard already.

"Thank you dear," Ylva said in a voice devoid of any real emotion, "But, might I ask what kept you this morning?"

"I overslept," Aska replied uneasily.

"I don't believe you," Ylva said, her eyes beginning to narrow ever so slightly, as though she were a cat eyeing its prey, "You never oversleep."

"Well, it's the truth," Aska insisted, "I was having this really odd dream and…"

"Dreams, like everything else, should not be allowed to get in the way of one's duties," Ylva interrupted her, "should they?"

Though Aska wanted to explain further, she shook her head.

"No," Ylva shook her head back. "And speaking of your duties," she then continued, "my daughters and I are going out for a walk, and I would like for you to exercise Arnthor."

"Oh, speaking of horses," Regin suddenly spoke up, "did Jarl come by with the new horseshoes?"

Aska turned to her, catching the faint sense of mischief as well as hope in her eyes regarding the local blacksmith, and replied, "No, I'm afraid not. But I'll be watching for him."

"See to it that you do," Ylva said before taking her first bite of food.

Aska nodded. Normally she left after being told what her morning chores would be, but this time something in her nagged at her to stay and speak to her mistress regarding one issue that seemed to bother her, despite her fierce denials, ever since she'd come here.

She stood tall and serious, and then she asked, "Madam, why do you never let me accompany you, Brynja, and Regin, except when it has to do with work?"

At this, Ylva stopped eating, put down her utensils, and gave Aska a look that was both confused and humorless at the same time. "Aska, you are a maid," she replied, "and maids do not make requests. They only see to those of others."

Aska, clearly not satisfied with that answer, pressed her further. "But, I've been seeing to your requests for five years, and I never ask you for anything. And if I'm only a maid then, why do you not pay me?"

"I do pay you," Ylva replied, "I let you stay under my roof when I could simply make you leave at any time. And here I thought you were grateful to me for allowing you to live here when I otherwise could have just turned you away and let you suffer even more, but, I suppose I was mistaken."

"I am grateful Madam," Aska replied, and she really meant it. She admitted that as aggravating as doing all these things for her could be, her past five years of living here were far more favorable than the five weeks of wandering she'd had to endure beforehand.

"Good," Ylva nodded, "Then I trust that you will remember my kindness before making such bold statements again."

"And don't you have better things to do," Brynja suddenly asked, "such as cleaning that fireplace of yours?"

Ignoring Brynja's sarcastic question with which she intended to make fun of her, Aska lowered her head to show her, inner grudging, respect to her mistress. "Good day Madam," she then said before turning around and heading back down the hall to the kitchen, hoping to have breakfast herself before going out to exercise Arnthor.

Later, she stood outside the front of the house to see Ylva, Brynja, and Regin off. They were all dressed in somewhat nicer clothing, while Aska remained in one of only two dresses she was permitted to wear, paling drastically in comparison to all three of them.

"We will return in about an hour," Ylva told her, "And I expect you to be here in this exact spot waiting for us, is that understood?"

"Yes Madam," Aska nodded.

"Good," Ylva nodded back, "Perhaps you have learned from this morning's mistake after all then."

She then turned to her daughters. "Come now ladies," she said, "It is a most beautiful morning, and I intend to make the most of it."

"Yes Mother," Brynja and Regin both said in unison.

Ylva passed them before they started walking behind her, as was their custom. And while her mother and sister weren't looking, Regin turned around and gave Aska a smile and a wave. Aska couldn't resist smiling and waving back, appreciating how she wanted to make her own morning a bit brighter, especially considering how roughly it started.

Once they were out of her sight, Aska turned around, walked around the house, and headed toward the stables, which was located a few minutes' walk through a group of trees. As she walked on the pathway, she saw that the leaves covering the trees were a beautiful shade of green, and the trees themselves stretched high above her, making her feel smaller than she already felt. But surely once she got onto Arnthor, her mistress's finest horse, she would feel tall again. Though she didn't tell Ylva, exercising the horses was perhaps one of the only two chores she actually enjoyed doing, while the rest involved washing dishes, scrubbing floors, doing the laundry and cooking, and basically making her exhausted by the end of the day while her mistress rarely even thanked her.

In fact, Aska couldn't really recall a time when Ylva did something nice for her, other than letting her live in her home. She'd turned eighteen only a few months ago, and she didn't even throw a special party for her as she did for Brynja and Regin. Aska didn't expect her to, but still, the eighteenth year was the time when one left childhood behind and became an adult. Not only that, but it was also the age when one was old enough to marry. Though why any man would want to marry her was beyond Aska. She did think she'd look pretty enough if she was allowed to work on her appearance. Her hair was so blond it was nearly white, and her eyes were a light blue. But she was also rather skinny, and her skin somewhat pale. In addition to that, she was a maid, a servant, a slave. Who in his right mind would want to be married to that?

But the weak and submissive side that she showed to Ylva instantly blew away with the wind once she was halfway to the stables. Her eyes caught a medium-sized piece of wood along with a long stick sitting against one tree, and a spark of mischief immediately set off in her, causing a slight smirk to cross her lips. She quickly ran over and took them up, the piece of wood with her left hand and the stick with her right. At once, she felt the boldest and most confident she did that whole morning, as well as that usual feeling of mischief whenever she took them up. It was one of three major secrets she kept from Ylva and Brynja.

Not long after she'd come to live with them, Aska had noted how Ylva would train Brynja to fight almost every day. Wishing to know how to fight as well, she secretly tried for herself what she'd seen them do after everyone else went to bed, only to find she could do most of those moves just as well if not better. And ever since, she would act the obedient maid by day, while at night she became a warrior in training, using pieces of wood and sticks like the ones she now held as practice shields and swords, and always keeping them hidden from her mistress.

For all of the hard times and hard labor that Aska had to endure in the past five years, nothing could stamp out the flame of hope that burned within her. It was now burning stronger than ever, now that she had come of age. In a way it had served as a fan for her inner fire. Whether or not she would get out of this place soon, by marriage or some other method, she would cease being Ylva's maid one day nonetheless.

For now though, Aska was only concerned with seeing to it that Arnthor was properly exercised. Still, she couldn't resist practicing a few moves as she traveled down the path. She swung the stick and the piece of wood around, battling imaginary foes, Frost Giants they were. Occasionally, she would give a kick or two, followed by a swift slash of her stick or a blow with her piece of wood, until she finally came upon the familiar, long building made of wood. Aska searched quickly around for a place to hide her faux shield and sword before placing them behind some bushes near a tree, and then proceeded on her way to the front door of the stables.

She opened the door and was immediately greeted by the smells of hay and leather, as well as the neighs of two of the three horses Ylva owned. A smile instantly crossed Aska's face, and she walked inside and toward Arnthor's stall, allowing the well-known scents to enter her nose.

A big, bay stallion with large, brown eyes turned to her as soon as she was in front of his stall, and he slowly reached his muzzle out as far as he could toward her hand.

"I'm sorry, I don't have anything for you today," Aska giggled. She then gave the horse's muzzle an affectionate scratch before going to the side room where the bridles and saddles were kept. "We're going riding today," she declared once she had one of each in her hand.

She then got to work tacking Arnthor. She first brushed him until every speck of dust was off him, and then she pulled the bridle over his head and strapped the saddle on his back. After opening the stall door, she walked him out, holding his reins with her right and petting him with her left. Once they were outside, she closed the stable doors again, promising the other two horses that she would feed them, before walking back over to Arnthor and climbing onto him.

Before long, she was smiling greatly and even laughing as she rode the bay through the flowing, green lands and below the blue sky, trotting and cantering. Aska always felt free whenever she rode a horse, never mind that she was still a maid. Truly, she often imagined herself just riding away on one of them, to a better and brighter future. But of course, reality's gripping, and sometimes painful, hold always pulled her back before she could actually do it. Even so, the thrill of riding such a spirited animal, with the wind in your face and blowing into your hair, was one that was unmatched.

Soon though, she reined in Arnthor for a rest, and together, the two stared out at the beautiful landscape before them, with birds singing, butterflies dancing across the fields, and flowers dotting the green grass every few feet. Aska then started looking for something else, another horse besides the one she rode, and another one of her three secrets.

A few months after she came to live with Ylva, Aska came across a beautiful but wounded filly. She had a very pale coat, mane, and tail, and friendly brown eyes, but she was rather dirty and had a large cut on one of her legs. Normally, she would have asked Ylva what she should do, but something about this horse seemed to draw her to her, almost as if there was some sort of bond between them, despite that Aska didn't recall ever seeing her before. So, ever since she found her, she cared for the horse in secret, hiding her in the woods, and tending to her needs. In doing so, she found that the horse was rather tame, somewhat intelligent, and she even had a name: Dagny.

Today, she didn't see her, either near or from afar. For a moment, she considered calling out for her with the whistle she would instantly recognize, when she heard the neigh of a horse that wasn't her own. She immediately looked, hoping it was Dagny, but her eyes widened in complete surprise. Not only was a solitary black horse galloping across the land, but he carried a rider too! "Come now you black beast!" he cried out.

He wore almost all black and had a hood on his head, but Aska didn't care who he was. In her eyes, he was a trespasser. A small crime, but a crime that she wasn't about to overlook. Though she hadn't planned on galloping Arnthor, not wanting to over-exercising him, she quickly urged him into a canter, and then into a fast gallop after the other horse and rider, determined not to let the man get away.

Once she was right beside him, she shouted over the thundering and pounding of hooves on the earth beneath them, "Sir, what gives you the right to pass through these lands when you neither own nor tend them?"

"I'm afraid you must let me!" the hooded man replied forcefully.

Not to be deterred, Aska asked, "And why must I let you?!"

"As I recall," the man replied, "I have a right to go wherever I please!"

"As I recall," Aska shouted back, "to pass through lands that belong to someone else unannounced is trespassing!"

"Oh just let me be and leave me alone!" the man shouted.

But Aska wasn't merely not going to honor his oh-so-desperate wish. In fact, she was going to make sure he knew of how serious she was. _Very well then,_ she thought, _you asked for it._ While still in a position appropriate for galloping, she took her feet out of the stirrups, prepared herself both physically and mentally, and then, she leaped out of her saddle and tackled the man out of his own and onto the ground.

But they didn't stop there. They proceeded to roll and tumble together down a slope, hitting the rough, hard ground relentlessly, again and again, until they both finally came to a stop beside one another, their stomachs heaving over the shock neither expected. Aska, however, was not about to let this stand in her way of making sure this man knew of his wrongdoing.

She sat up on her knees, and through her panting said, "Now, if you know what's good for you, you will obey my order, and leave these lands at once!"

The man coughed twice before saying, "I beg your pardon?" He then raised himself up on his knees, and pulled back his hood, revealing himself to her. And once Aska saw him, with his slicked back, midnight black hair, grayish-green eyes, and finely formed face, she immediately knew, with great shock, who he was. Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard.

A gasp instantly escaped her lips, and she got down on all fours, her head to the ground. "Your Highness, do pardon me," she said, her voice nearly shaking with fear, "I am so, so very sorry. I didn't know it was you!"

"And, I admit, that was my fault," Loki replied, with a slight feeling of awkwardness in his voice.

While Aska didn't believe she would ever get to, nor did she really understand why almost every girl in the kingdom was in love with them, she did sometimes entertain the notion of meeting one of the princes. She wondered what they would be like, though her most prevalent theory was that they would be rather conceited. However, now that she was actually in front of one of them, and that she had laid hands on him in an improper way, it mortified her.

"Please, have mercy on me Highness," she pleaded, "If my mistress were to know…"

"But she doesn't," Loki suddenly interrupted her, "No one saw what you did."

Aska slowly raised her head to meet the prince's eyes, which, to her almost pleasant surprise, were rather kind. "You mean, you're not going to punish me?" she asked.

"I could," Loki admitted, "But I'm not going to. You were right to act as you did. In truth, had I been in your place I probably would have done the same."

Though Aska was very grateful for his letting her go, she found herself confused at his last sentence. "But, you're a prince."

"Yes," Loki frowned, contempt evident in his voice even with that one word, "And I am told that at least a dozen times a day."

Though hesitant, for fear of agitating him, Aska felt the strange need to speak to him more, though he might push her away since she was a maid. Still, there was something about him that she kind of liked which made her want to want to continue the conversation. She raised herself back up again, and with great caution asked, "Well, if I may ask, why were you passing through here?"

In spite of her expectations, he responded, though after a moment of silence passed between them. "Let's just say, I was venting," he replied.

Curious to know more, but still somewhat hesitant, Aska asked, "What for?"

Loki then turned to her. Aska expected a rebuke, but again, he reacted differently than she thought he would. Though he did seem a bit frustrated, and still frowned, he spoke with concern. "Can I trust you?" he asked.

Aska swallowed nervously before replying, "I am a maid, Highness. Keeping trust is a requirement."

He looked confused, but Aska quickly defended herself. "Yes, you can trust me," she nodded.

Loki nodded back, giving only the slightest hint of a smile, before he breathed a heavy sigh and frowned again. "My father apparently set up a marriage between me and one of my mother's ladies-in-waiting, the Lady Idunn, though he told me about it only just this morning. I asked to be alone so I could think about it, but…Oh, I was so angry I just had to get away."

Aska raised her eyebrows at this revelation. "So you ran off?" she asked.

Loki nodded, looking as though he regretted doing what he said. "Yes," he admitted, "He's probably called for the Royal Guard to search for me by now. But truthfully, I'd rather face my father's wrath a thousand times over than marry that witch of a woman!"

Aska's eyes widened a bit at the passion with which he spoke those last few words. Though she'd never met Lady Idunn, she had to ask, "Is she really that vile?"

"Well, perhaps that was an exaggeration," Loki replied, "But she will not leave me alone. She hasn't stopped pursuing me since…"

That was when he broke off, and he breathed a shorter, and almost sad, sigh. With curiosity winning out once more against the fear of offending, Aska asked, "Since what?"

Loki then briefly pressed his lips together, and shook his head. "Nothing," he replied, "I, don't want to talk about it."

Aska nodded, her need to be polite finally coming through to her after deciding to leave it at that. Suddenly though, Loki gave her a small smile. "Well, you obviously know me. What's your name lass?"

Aska raised her eyebrows again, now that the focus had shifted so quickly on her. Still, she couldn't refuse to answer such an honest question. "I'm called Aska, Your Highness," she replied, trying to smile back.

He looked at her with fascination, making her feel, even if it was slight, more nervous. "Aska," he repeated, "Why are you called that?"

Now she really hesitated to answer. She didn't like thinking of how she'd come to have that name, as it evoked memories she didn't like to recall. Still, he'd trusted her with his story. Perhaps she could trust him with hers. Perhaps. But deciding to take the chance, Aska explained, "Well, a few years ago, my mistress found me outside her home, cold, hungry, and very, very confused."

Loki nodded, and she continued. "I all-but begged her to let me stay. And she did, but on the grounds that I offer her something in return. So, I offered her my services, and I've pretty much been her maid ever since."

Loki's frown slowly returned to his face. "Well, that's rather harsh is it not?" he asked.

"Oh, it's not that bad," Aska replied, though that was a bit of a half-lie, "As for my name, since I could not remember my own, she decided to call me Aska, since I looked like I'd 'just come out of a fireplace' as she said."

"You don't remember your own name?" Loki asked her.

Aska shook her head. "I'm afraid not," she replied, "In fact, I don't remember anything of my life before I became her maid."

"Nothing at all?"

"Nothing at all," Aska shook her head again, trying not to sound sad.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Loki said, his tone of voice being one of pity.

"Oh, don't be," said Aska, "I don't dwell on it."

That was the whole truth. But concerning her whole story, Aska considered it best to leave out the details. Though her memory was faulty, she'd never forget the day she woke up lying on a riverbed, sopping wet from head to toe, and her blond hair somewhat tainted red with blood from a wound on her head. Even more alarming, she didn't know who she was or where she came from. It was as if she'd entered the world not as an infant, but as a girl already in adolescence.

And the following weeks were ones of near misery, ones she spent wandering alone and frightened, sleeping in barns, and eating all the food she could get. She didn't blame Ylva for her baffled reaction at seeing her in front of her house, for by then she looked a wild mess. Her hair was unkempt, she wore tattered and dirty rags for clothes, and she was remarkably thin, and so hungry that the grass looked inviting. Even more so, she desperately wanted some identity to cling to. And thus, no matter who she was before, she was then and now Aska, the ash-covered maid, and she didn't want anyone to pity her, especially someone like His Highness.

But before either could say anymore, they heard in the distance the sound of what seemed to be a large group of riders on horses. Even from where they sat they could hear the relentless shouting of the riders and their horses' hooves thundering against the ground. Once they ceased hearing both, they turned back to one another.

"That must be my father's guard," Loki frowned.

Aska nodded. "With all due respect, Your Highness," she then said, "if I were you I'd return home, before your father gets really angry with you."

Loki nodded back. "I'm afraid you're right," he agreed. He and Aska both got back up onto their feet and then treaded back up the slope as quickly as they could. As soon as they were at the top, Loki put his fingers to his mouth and whistled. Before long, his horse came cantering up to his side, and Loki climbed back on before turning to Aska one last time.

"I bid you good day Aska," he nodded, giving her a smile, "It was a pleasure to meet you."

"And you, Your Highness," Aska nodded back as she gave a farewell curtsy.

Loki then gathered the reins in his hands, and set his black horse off on a canter back through the field, while Aska watched from further and further behind, an invisible force planting her feet into the ground until he was out of her sight. Only then did she turn around and whistle for her own horse.

For the rest of what remained of the hour, Aska rode Arnthor some more, as though it was just like any other morning, as though her encounter with Prince Loki had never happened. And yet, she found that that was all she could think about. For some inexplicable reason, which she disliked and liked at the same time, she found herself rather fond of His Highness, perhaps a bit more than she should. Even more confusing was the way they almost naturally talked to one another. Something about his manner and the way he spoke to her made talking to him for Aska somewhat easy. Was it his handsome looks? His handsome demeanor? Both? Or some other possible reason?

Aska didn't know. All she knew, as she finally rode back home, was that the last thing she wanted was for the wrong person to find out about this meeting.

* * *

_Reviews would be appreciated._


	3. Preparation for Battle

**Not Your Average Cinderella**

Chapter 2 – Preparation for Battle

As the mid-morning sky was now bright above the realm of Asgard, a group of six guards was making their way back to the massive palace of gold which sat in the center. A man clad in black on an equally black horse, Loki, rode in-between them, and had the guards seen his face, they would have known he was not very pleased to return. Though he had decided to willingly return peacefully, he knew what lay ahead of him, and he was not looking forward to it in the least. But he was going to face it. He was no longer a child, and he was going to make sure his parents knew it.

Still, it was nice to see that his best friend and brother, Thor, stood at the front. Growing up they had gotten into trouble far worse than this. But more often than not, they had a good enough sense of humor to laugh about it in hindsight, even if everyone else around them did not. Today, however, as he rode the last few feet to the palace, Loki wasn't sure this would be a situation that they would laugh about later.

"Loki," Thor called out as his brother dismounted from his horse, "Good to have you back brother!"

Though he appreciated Thor's high spirits and his desire to lift his own, Loki's face remained grim. "I wish I could say the same," he called back.

He then walked over to Thor, gave him a firm handshake – as well as a slight smile – and asked, "Where's Father?"

"He's in the throne room," Thor replied, nodding his head toward the door as his smile became smaller.

"And I'm afraid His Majesty has ordered us to take you there as soon as you returned, Highness," the captain of the guard spoke up.

Loki could only press his lips together and let out a sigh in nervous anticipation. But then, when he turned back toward his brother, an idea instantly came to his mind. "Then you're coming with me," he said.

Thor immediately frowned. Was his brother really telling him to come and face their father's wrath with him? "And why should I?" he asked.

"Because Father might be a bit more lenient if we face him together," Loki replied, "I can't guarantee it but…"

"Very well," Thor interrupted him, "I'm already in trouble for allowing you to drag me into this. I might as well go through with it to the end."

Despite being very blunt about it, he went about it with such good humor that Loki couldn't help but let out a droll chuckle. But the humor didn't last for long, as both were then escorted through the golden halls of the palace, one set of guards in front of them and another behind to make sure they didn't run off. It made them both feel as though they were children again, being brought to their parents after getting caught doing something rather naughty – or in this case, disruptive. Even so, the brothers spoke as if none of the guards were there at all.

"You just had to be so unwise as to willingly anger Father," Thor said as he shook his head in disapproval.

"Who said I was wise?" Loki asked sarcastically, "Besides, Father allowed himself to get angry."

"That's not the point!" Thor countered. Suddenly though, he managed to get a hold of his already hot attitude before it could be let loose. "In all honesty," he said with a calmer voice, "I agree with you. No one should be married against their will. However, I also appreciate it when my family and friends leave me out of their personal plights."

Loki opened his mouth to speak, to remind him that he felt very much the same whenever Thor involved him in his own "plights," but no words came out. Instead, he allowed himself to see the situation through his brother's point of view, how much trouble Thor likely was in on his account, and sighed in disappointment at himself. "I understand," he nodded.

"Do you?" Thor asked skeptically.

"Yes," Loki insisted, "And, I apologize. I shouldn't have gotten you involved."

Thor half-rolled his eyes in response, wanting to remind his brother how he was incapable of such sincerity. But as much as he wanted to, common sense, and the fact that Loki had just said he was sorry, held him back, and he spoke different words instead. "Then, I thank you, for saying so," he said slowly.

It didn't take long though before Loki noticed the strange look he was giving him.

"What?" he asked, "Why show such concern?"

"What, I can't be worried for you?" Thor asked, "I'm beginning to wonder whether you'll leave the throne room with your head still attached to your shoulders."

Loki widened his eyes at such a remark. "You don't actually believe Father will…"

"Oh of course not!" Thor interrupted him, "I'm just hoping you won't become even more mad than you already are."

For a reason he couldn't explain, that last sentence caused Loki to let another chuckle escape his lips.

"Speaking of which," Thor then said, "where did you go today?"

At those words, all the humor that had adorned Loki's face vanished, allowing a frown to form in its place. "Must we bring that up?" he asked.

"Why am I not allowed to know?" Thor asked more eagerly.

Loki only pressed his lips together, knowing that there was no escaping his brother's desire to know. "Promise you won't laugh?"

"I give you my word," Thor replied.

Loki let out a brief, but disbelieving sigh. He knew his brother would at least chuckle at what he was about to tell him, if nothing else. But, even so, there was no possible way to deny his eagerness to know. It was all he could do to prepare himself before he finally let the words escape him.

"I rode through someone else's lands," he began, "though, to whom they belonged I knew not. In fact, I was so intensely focused that, the next thing I knew, I found someone riding next to me, insisting – or, rather, demanding – I leave since I was trespassing."

"What did you do?" Thor asked.

"Well, I refused at first," Loki replied, a nervous look forming on his face despite his best efforts, "Actually, I basically told them to be gone."

Thor raised his eyebrows with now intense interest. "What happened then?"

"Well," Loki said, knowing the most likely reaction he'd receive from his brother was not one he would desire, "let's simply say that, it wasn't long before I took a bit of a tumble down a slope and into a small valley."

Thor widened his eyes, and, as he'd previously feared, Loki watched with great uneasiness as a smile began to form on his brother's face. As Thor promised, he didn't laugh, but he did ask, "And who may I ask did that to you?"

Loki bit his lower lip hard, wondering whether or not he should tell Thor, when suddenly, on a whim, he replied, "A servant girl."

"A servant girl?" Thor asked. He still didn't laugh, but he did let out a chuckle that Loki feared might turn into a laugh. Had he been the one listening under normal circumstances, Loki might have chuckled as well, but something about the situation made him want to take the matter seriously.

"Yes," he admitted as he nodded, "but listen to me. This wasn't your average servant girl. In fact, in spite of our rough greeting, we had a rather interesting conversation before I left."

"You did?" Thor asked, "What about? Did she recognize you?"

"Yes we did, I prefer not to say, and yes, she did recognize me," Loki gave his respective answer to each question, "But there was also something peculiar about her. Not only did she not swoon in my presence, but, though I don't recall seeing her before, something about her seemed almost, familiar."

"Perhaps you're simply now drawn to any maiden who isn't Idunn," Thor suggested as he smiled.

Loki only rolled his eyes in response, before he gave another in the form of a heavy sigh. "I don't know," he breathed as he recalled her face, her voice, "But it was nice to have someone to talk to."

"Well, I can't imagine you'll enjoy the coming talk very much," Thor said as they turned the corner, and began to approach the large, decorated doors beyond which lay their father's throne room, where Odin was undoubtedly waiting.

_No indeed, _thought Loki. He could almost picture his mighty father being red with impatience, ready to explode at him the minute Loki said something he did not wish to hear. Even so, Loki let out a deep breath and stood straight and strong, as the prince he was. He was not going to show himself to be a coward, let alone a weakling.

Though one of the two guards who stood on either side smiled as they approached, Loki did not return it.

"Your Highness," he said as they bowed briefly, "So nice to have you return."

Loki cleared his throat, wishing only to get the coming torment over with. He took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh, the grim frown still on his face, before he asked, "Permission to enter the torture chamber?"

The guards briefly looked at one another – and Loki could have sworn he saw both of them smirk for a second – before the first guard nodded and replied, "Granted."

The two then walked over to take the handles, and then opened the heavy twin doors. From the moment they did, Loki immediately felt the flat, still air, and the brewing tension, for the first thing he saw before he even entered the room was the eye of Odin, looking straight at him.

"Your Majesty," one of the escorting guards said, "we have succeeded in our quest and brought back your son."

"Loki!" a feminine voice called out. Loki immediately looked, and felt the weight slightly lift from his shoulders, to see his mother hurrying towards him, her arms stretched out to greet her younger son. Knowing he could never refuse her embrace, Loki hugged her gently. But then, his eyes caught a sight that made his frown return. The Warriors Three: Volstagg, Fandral, Hogun, and even Sif stood on one side of the room, all of them returning his alarmed gaze. Had they come to witness this confrontation – whether it be out of spite or Odin's command? Or had they come for another reason? Loki almost didn't hear Frigga speak to him.

"Thank goodness you have returned!" she exclaimed, "Are you alright?"

Hearing that question, Loki turned back to her and nodded as he assured her, "Don't worry about me Mother. Now, if you'll kindly excuse me…"

He didn't need to finish, for Frigga nodded in understanding and let go of him. Though Loki was aware of everyone behind him watching as he approached Odin on his throne, he pretended that it was only the two of them in the room. Despite having seriously violated the unspoken rule that one should not intentionally anger the king of Asgard – though, to be fair, this wasn't the first time Loki or Thor had broken it – Loki stood straight as before and refused to be intimidated.

He put his hand to his chest and bowed to show respect, as Odin was his king as well as his father. "Father," he said in a reverent tone, "I understand you wish to speak to me, again?"

In spite of his expectation to witness a fit of explosive rage, Odin only looked at Loki with an expression that was even grimmer than his own. In fact, Loki was almost surprised when his father spoke in a rather calm voice, but one that still carried authority, "Indeed, I do."

Loki's eyes remained on his father – and his father's eye on him – as Odin then stood up and descended down the steps toward his son. "My son," he said in a somewhat different voice, "why did you act so rashly? How many times have your mother and I told you throughout your life not to leave the palace without our permission?"

The question quickly caused the spark of uneasiness within Loki to be fanned into a flame of frustration. "I still need your permission to leave the palace?" he asked, "I am not a boy anymore Father, and yet you insist on treating me like one!"

"I do so only because you insist on acting like one!" Odin immediately replied, his own voice becoming rather frustrated.

"How?" Loki asked, "By refusing to marry a woman who loves me not and I not her?!"

Odin only looked at Loki with an open mouth before saying, "I beg your pardon?!"

"You heard me!" Loki exclaimed, determined to make his voice heard, "I'm not marrying Idunn and there is nothing you can say or do to change my mind!"

Odin raised his eyebrow, as he was clearly not used to having his orders so blatantly and defiantly thrust aside. Had Loki been a child, he would have quickly taken the paddle and given him a lesson he would not soon forget. But, having been reminded that he was not, the only weapons he could use against his son were his words.

"Loki, you are a prince of Asgard!"

"So what?!" Loki replied, letting his hands fly angrily into the air, "It's only a mere title!…In fact, I'm considering giving it up!"

Odin's gasp was not the only one Loki then heard, but neither he nor his father were about to be deterred.

"You will not even _think_ about abdicating your position!" Odin warned him.

"I will if you keep insisting I marry Idunn!" Loki talked back.

"I forbid it!"

"Or what?! You'll take Thor's hammer and blast me out of the realm?!"

Odin opened his mouth to speak, when someone took him by the arm. He looked to see that it was his wife, Frigga, who looked eager to try and quell the disorder and shouting as soon as possible. "Dearest," she spoke to him as calmly as she could, "let me speak with him. He's my son as much as yours."

Odin donned a thinking expression as he considered Frigga's request, before he nodded and said, "Please do."

Frigga nodded back to show her thanks and then turned to Loki, her hands clasped together in front of her and her back as straight as his, but her voice was that of a mother attempting to reason kindly with her son.

"Loki, your father is right. You are a prince of Asgard. But you must know that even those who are not royal or noble have to do things they otherwise do not wish to do."

Loki only put his head in his hand. While he was relieved to be talked to again rather than being shouted at, he wasn't terribly pleased that now his mother too was lecturing him. "Forgive me Mother, but as I recall the peasants rarely, if ever, consent to an arranged marriage."

"They will if I order it," Odin spoke up. But Loki ignored him.

"And I doubt either of you have any idea what it is like to never meet someone who loves you for yourself rather than your royal status!"

"So you're saying you will be content to simply cast off your responsibilities?!" Odin asked.

"Why should I not enjoy what the peasants do?!" Loki asked, "If I should ever rule them, should I not understand their ways?! Why should I not marry someone who actually loves me?!"

Silence then fell upon the room. No one spoke: not Thor, the Warriors Three, Frigga, and especially not Loki and Odin. All they did was look at each other with the bitterest of expressions, silently imploring the other to be reasonable, according to his terms. Before long though, Odin allowed himself to look over to Volstagg, Fandral, Hogun, and Sif, pressed his lips together, and nodded, before turning back to Loki. As much as he wanted the issue before him to be resolved, as king, some things had to be settled sooner than others. And he was no longer in the mood of fighting with his son, whom he loved so.

"We will discuss this later," he said, the frustration in his voice having left, "For now, we have more important matters to attend to. Thor!"

"Yes Father?" Thor answered from the other side of the room, where he had stood before to watch.

"Please come and join us," Odin invited him, "This concerns you as well."

"Of course Father," Thor nodded. He then proceeded across the room to once again be at the side of his brother, who was becoming somewhat unnerved.

"What is the matter Father?" Loki asked, "You all seem ill at ease."

Odin quickly explained. "While you were gone, Sif and the Warriors Three came to me with a report that I believe you should hear."

He then gestured toward Sif, giving her permission to speak. The raven-haired warrior lady of Asgard nodded her thanks at the king, and then stepped forward to give her report to the princes.

"As you both already know," she began, "there have been a series of strange attacks throughout Asgard, and from the descriptions that the citizens gave, the attackers seem to be Frost Giants from Jotunheim."

"I still find that hard to believe," Thor spoke up, "Father sealed the realm ages ago, so how could they possibly weaken it, let alone break it? Besides, they would still have to get past Heimdall."

"The Jotuns can be crafty," Fandral replied, "And no one said that the seal was unbreakable. They could be weakening it from the inside."

"But how?" Thor asked, "Only Father's staff can break the seal."

"Perhaps they have found another way around," Loki suggested.

"Which brings us to the task that I have assigned to all of you," Odin spoke up.

Loki turned around and gave him a questioning look. "Father?"

Sif then spoke again, causing Loki to turn back around to listen to her. "Early this morning, we noticed a strange disturbance over at the dome of transportation. We went there to question Heimdall, to see if he could bring us answers."

"And?" Loki asked.

"It is possible that the Frost Giants are planning an uprising," Volstagg replied.

"It is our duty to see that it is stopped," Hogun said, with the gruffness of the warrior he was.

"And I would advise you to also try and discover why the seal is weakening," Odin added.

Thor and Loki turned around to look at their father, each having the same questioning expression on his face, before the two gave those looks to each other, both wondering what to make of the assignment set before them.

"What do you suggest?" Thor asked Loki.

Loki only shrugged his shoulders and tried to smile. "Brother, you're the crown prince," he replied, "Whatever your choice shall be, I'll accept it."

Thor then donned a thinking face, as shown by his thoughtful looking eyes and placing his hand over his mouth. He was aware of the seven faces looking at him, awaiting his decision, whatever it may be, but that did not disturb his thoughts. Eventually though, after thinking it through carefully, he believed he'd made a decision, and nodded his head at Loki before turning to Odin.

"Father," he said, "we accept the task you've assigned for us. When do we depart?"

"Tonight," Odin replied.

"Tonight?" Loki asked.

"You will benefit from the cover of darkness," Odin explained.

"Then we shall leave then," Thor nodded. Other nods and murmurs of agreement came from his brother and the other warriors, showing that the matter seemed to be settled. But despite the plan that had just been set before them, the shadow of concern made its way into Thor's mind, causing his smile to fall into a frown. He turned to Odin again.

"One more question Father," he said. For a moment, he looked away, wondering if he should mention the topic he wished to bring up, when he decided that it must and looked back at his father and asked, "What should we do if we should happen to come across…_her_?"

He did not wish to speak her name, but everyone seemed to understand whom it was he spoke of, as they had all fallen silent. But Thor paid them no heed, desiring an answer from Odin, whose eyebrow had raised in intrigue at that final word.

"You have reason to believe you might encounter her?" he asked.

"I don't see why not," Thor replied, "She's been about, acting outside the law for nearly a month now. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if she followed us all the way to Jotunheim."

The person he was speaking of was a most peculiar one, a vigilante who had been at the sites of the Jotun attacks. Though none of them had ever seen her in person, most witnesses described her as wearing purple and gold, and very good with a sword and shield, fighting off the giants who otherwise would have terrorized the citizens. But perhaps the oddest feature about her was the mask she wore across her face. Without knowing her identity, there was no way, even by her defending actions, to tell whether she was for, or against Asgard. Hence the attempts to apprehend her and bring her before Odin for questioning, but to no avail. Every time they tried, they failed. And they had learned little to nothing else about her in the past few weeks, hence Thor's concern.

"She would have to sneak past Heimdall," Fandral pointed out.

"True," Thor agreed, "But still, her ways remain a mystery to us. What shall we do, Father?"

Though the same concern flashed across his own face, it wasn't long before Odin gave his son the answer he knew he wanted. "The odds are perfectly balanced, but should you indeed come across her, my advice would be to do as you see fit based on what you see. Remember what I taught you about a warrior's patience."

"Of course Father," Thor nodded, though it was common knowledge that he had to be reminded often to be patient, since he, not Loki, was the one who usually acted rashly, hence another reason for the outrage at Loki's disappearance, "We shall all do our best."

"Agreed," Loki nodded, trying his best to smile, though all he could think of was what tonight might reveal, and that he would have to remind Thor to keep his conversation with the servant girl – Aska – a secret from everyone else.

* * *

Meanwhile, at the home of the Lady Ylva, Aska was in the kitchen, immersing her arms all the way up to the elbows in warm, soapy water, having been assigned to washing the dishes after Ylva and her daughters returned home. She didn't mind it much though. She liked the sweet smell of fine spring flowers that emanated from the soap and would occasionally try to blow big bubbles, though she never let Ylva know. The windows were closed, but she could hear the clang of metal swords and shields outside, as well as her mistress's instructions – often bitterly addressed – to Brynja.

Sometimes, Aska couldn't help but feel sorry for Brynja. Although she was in many ways like her mother, she, like everyone else, sometimes had to endure harsh words from Ylva, whom she knew to be a perfectionist.

But suddenly, as she was turning her thoughts to other, more serious matters, her train of thought was rather rudely interrupted when the door behind her flew open, and a feminine voice asked just as quickly, "Has he arrived?"

So hastily and without warning did both occur that Aska ended up gasping and dropping in surprise both the dish rag and the plate she was holding into the water, causing some of the soap to scatter from the large wooden tub onto the floor. Aska whipped around, and was relieved, but also frustrated, to discover that it was Regin, who was trying hard to hold back at least a chuckle.

"Regin!" she told her sternly, "Please, don't do that! Scared me half to death!"

Regin reluctantly let a slight chuckle escape her lips, but she tried to keep the spiteful humor out of her voice as she spoke. "Forgive me but, I thought nothing scared you." She then reached for a spare, dry dish rag, and handed it to Aska, who began wiping off the soap that had splashed onto her shoulders and cheeks. Despite her frustration though, Aska found Regin's humor somewhat contagious, because she herself began chuckling.

"Then I meant 'surprised,'" she said.

"I'm sorry," Regin said, "I suppose I got overexcited."

"Suppose?" Aska asked.

Regin couldn't help but roll her eyes, and she asked her previous question again. "Anyway, did he come?"

"You mean Jarl?" Aska asked as she got back to scrubbing the dishes. Regin nodded eagerly, but Aska frowned. "No, I'm afraid not."

"But Mother ordered those horseshoes days ago!" Regin exclaimed, "What is taking him so long?"

"Well, he's a blacksmith for one thing," Aska replied, "These things take time. And for another, we're not his only clients."

But then, when Aska saw Regin's smile begin to fade into a slight frown, she couldn't help but sigh and try to cheer her up. "If it makes you feel better," she said, "I'll ask Ylva if I can inquire of him this afternoon."

"Oh," Regin sighed, "You know I'd go there myself, but of course Mother wouldn't approve."

This time, Aska's smile began to turn into a frown. "It'll all work out someday," she tried to assure her, "After all, we're not children anymore."

"But still," Regin sighed again. Aska only nodded in response. She'd noticed Regin's growing attraction to the local blacksmith for awhile now, and both had kept it a secret, since Ylva obviously wouldn't allow for such a match. Though Regin's mother no longer lived at court, Regin was still considered a noble, and Jarl, being a blacksmith, was only a mere peasant. Still, Aska could see why Regin liked him. He was a rather handsome man, with strong arms, long red hair, and soft green eyes. His manner, too, was rather attractive, always as polite as a gentleman, and he was eight years older than Regin. In Asgard, it was not uncommon for a woman, no matter what class, to marry a man at least five years her senior.

But then, seemingly deciding to put the troubling issue aside, Regin rolled up her sleeves and asked Aska, "Would you like for me to help you?"

"Oh no need," Aska shook her head as she began scrubbing a bowl, "I couldn't impose. Besides, I don't want you to get in trouble with your mother."

"Oh why should she care?" Regin asked sarcastically, "She's outside with Brynja, like she often is."

Though Aska noticed the odd tone that Regin used when speaking that last sentence, she shook her head again. "Still, there's no telling."

Regin only sighed as she pulled her sleeves back down again. "I suppose not."

Aska tried to smile, but her mouth failed to cooperate, keeping the frown with which she pitied Regin. She'd known Ylva wasn't always the way she was when Aska came to live with them. She'd once been happily married to Lord Mímir, a noble known for his great wisdom, until he was executed after trying to steal Odin's staff, though why he did no one could ever figure out. Now that her husband was dead, Ylva lived in a self-imposed exile, believing she would never recover from the disgrace.

Still, neither Aska nor Regin let Ylva impose her bitter demeanor on them. In fact, for almost as long as Aska lived here, she and Regin had been friends, secretly. Jarl and Regin were probably the only real friends Aska ever had. If she had other good friends in her previous life, she couldn't recall them, so she had to make do with what she had, and she admitted that what she had was rather fortunate.

Then again, she'd probably made another friend this morning, even if the way they met wasn't ideal. Indeed, as embarrassing as she considered it, Aska found herself fondly recalling her meeting his Highness. And apparently, it wasn't long before Regin noticed.

"Why are you smiling?" she asked.

Aska turned around and gave her a confused look. "What? I'm not allowed to smile?"

"Well of course you are," Regin replied. She then went on to say, with a mischievous look in her eyes, "But that's not a normal smile, I can tell. What are you thinking about?"

For a moment, Aska weighed the choices in her mind of whether or not she should tell Regin about her encounter with Prince Loki. Part of her didn't want to, believing she might get in trouble. The risk seemed great. Still, she and Regin were no strangers to what they considered dramatic secrets, and thought themselves good at keeping them. And Regin might otherwise press her until she finally told her. Not being one fond of being pressed, Aska sighed in preparation, and looked at Regin with absolute seriousness before saying, "You must swear to secrecy."

Regin nodded, her eyes still mischievous but the rest of her face reflecting the same seriousness. "The utmost."

"And you must promise not to scream," Aska added.

Regin nodded again. "I promise."

Knowing she might do so anyway, but nonetheless wishing to get it out, Aska closed her eyes and sighed one more time before she began. "This morning, while I was riding Arnthor, I noticed a man in a black hood riding his horse through our fields."

Regin raised her eyebrows. "He was trespassing then?"

"Unfortunately."

"What did you do?" Regin asked eagerly.

"Well, I rode up next to him and tried to make him leave," Aska continued, "But when he refused, I tackled him out of his saddle and sent both of us down a hill."

Regin gasped slightly, clearly invested in Aska's story. "Did you find out who he was?"

Aska only pressed her lips together and nodded.

"Well, who was it?" Regin asked.

With her heart beating hard against her chest, and knowing she'd reached the climax of her story, Aska looked around to make sure no one, was looking, especially through the windows, before she invited Regin to lean slightly inward. Regin nodded and took the invitation, allowing Aska to reply in a voice only they could hear, "Prince Loki."

Regin's eyes instantly widened, and she gasped even louder than before, causing Aska to quickly dry her hand and press it against Regin's mouth before another sound could escape.

"You promised you wouldn't scream!" she said softly but fiercely.

Regin nodded again and again before Aska released her hand from her mouth. "I won't, I won't," she insisted, "I'm sorry. But, you must be joking!"

"I wish I was," Aska sighed.

"You actually tackled his Highness?!" Regin asked, barely able to get the words out.

"Please don't remind me," Aska implored her, feeling the hotness of embarrassment form on both her cheeks.

"Well, what happened?"

"Well, to be perfectly honest, we started talking, and, he wasn't like how I expected him to be," Aska admitted.

Regin's mouth fell open as she realized what Aska most likely felt about him. "Why, you _like_ him do you not?"

Aska's eyes instantly flashed in defiance at her. "No! No, of course not!" she insisted. But when Regin raised a skeptical eyebrow, Aska realized there was no tricking Regin, or herself. "Well, perhaps but, certainly not in _that_ way. It couldn't possibly work out for us anyway."

Regin couldn't help but shrug her shoulders and smile. "Who knows?" Just then, the mischief in her eyes reignited as another fun thought entered her mind. "Oh, if Mother and Brynja knew…"

"They'd murder me," Aska finished for her.

"Or die," Regin suggested.

"Or both," Aska added.

Just then, that last suggestion caused laughter to come from both girls. Indeed, it would have been serious if either knew, but still, they found it rather humorous. However, it wasn't long before Regin sighed, and gave a somewhat mirthless smile.

"If only we knew who you once were," she said sadly.

"Well, unless I can somehow amazingly recall my former life, I shall remain who I am now," Aska reminded her, "Besides, what are the odds of us encountering each other again, let alone our 'relationship' going anywhere?"

"Again, who knows?" Regin couldn't help but say. Truly, she was a romantic to the end, whereas Aska was always more practical. But soon, Aska noticed a flicker of a frown on Regin's face, causing a frown to form on her own. Just as Regin had been able to read her true emotions just now, Aska had learned to return the favor.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" Regin asked.

"You look like you have something on your mind," Aska replied, "Come now, I told you my dramatic secret, you can tell me yours."

Regin raised her eyebrows in the same way she did earlier. "Well, someone's rather insistent today," she said with slight sarcasm. But then, she gave a small sigh and nodded. "Very well, I'll tell you."

Aska nodded back, and listened carefully as Regin began to tell her news, though, she was also happy to be talking of something else besides his Highness, who seemed to be causing her to feel rather strange.

"Early this morning," Regin began, "I was sleeping, when a strange light suddenly met my eyes."

Aska raised her eyebrows in curiosity. "A light? From where?"

Regin nodded, assuring Aska that she would soon get there. "Well, I woke up and looked outside, and I noticed a rather odd disturbance of light coming from the dome of teleportation."

"The one at the edge of Asgard?" Aska asked, suddenly eager as Regin had once been to know.

"I believe so," Regin nodded, "I figured I'd probably tell you about it later, since you seem to be specializing in these sorts of things lately, but I forgot, at least until now."

Aska nodded back. Regin did have a point, at least in regards in her "specializing" in strange occurrences as of late. It was the third secret she kept from Ylva and Brynja. Only Regin and Jarl were the ones to also know. For the past few weeks, Aska had been secretly putting her skills with a sword and shield to the test, and masquerading as a vigilante known as the "Purple Phantom," fighting against Frost Giants she heard were somehow getting into Asgard. She managed to attract a considerable amount of attention, and there were even attempts to arrest her, but she always managed to flee them. Even so, she never could figure out how Jotuns could be coming to Asgard when Odin had sealed the realm ages ago. Perhaps she'd acquired a chance to find out.

"To tell you the truth," she said, "I have been thinking about how they could be coming here, and, I think you may have given me the fuel I need."

"What are you implying?" Regin asked, suddenly concerned with what she was going to say.

Aska only looked at her sternly, after thinking it over carefully, and declared, "I'm going to Jotunheim."

Immediately, and as she expected, Regin frowned with disapproval. "What? You mean, you actually intend to leave the realm without permission?"

"Unfortunately," Aska nodded.

"Aska, you know as well as I that doing so is forbidden."

"True," Aska agreed, "But I can think of nothing else to do."

"But what about the Jotuns? They'll eat you alive!"

"I've been fighting them for at least a month, Regin. I believe I can hold my own against a few. Besides, I will only be looking for answers."

"And what if you should encounter someone from the palace? It's likely that they've noticed it as well."

"Indeed, but if I should do so, then I will simply have to convince them that I'm on their side."

"As if you haven't been trying to do so already," Regin reminded her, "And I don't believe any part of this proposed mission will be simple."

"Neither do I," Aska agreed, "But I've made myself a protector of Asgard. If I can stop the Frost Giants from entering the realm, I've got to take the chance."

For a moment, Regin stayed silent, leaving Aska to wonder what she would say or do, when she then looked at her again and asked, "I suppose there's no stopping you, is there?"

Though there wasn't much humor in the question, Aska gave a slight smirk. "I'm afraid not."

"Then when are you leaving?" Regin asked.

"Tonight," Aska replied, "when everyone is asleep. I'm going to need the darkness to cover me."

"Well then, if I cannot stop you, then, I wish you the very best of luck," Regin said, trying her best to smile.

As if to encourage her, Aska walked over to her and wrapped her arm around her shoulder. "Thank you. You've been wishing it for me ever since my first mission."

This time, Regin managed to succeed in smiling, and she returned the favor by wrapping her own arm around Aska's shoulder. "You really are the sister I never had."

"And you to me," Aska smiled, though she frowned again once she stopped hugging Regin and looked out the window at the sky filled with daylight. She could only wonder what would happen once the light of night replaced it, but she knew she would do what she must.

* * *

The following night, Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard, stood alone in his room, making sure everything was ready for his departure. He had recently put on his battle armor, his gloves, and his boots, all as black as his own hair. His gloved hands put inside his belt his weapons: knives made of ice shards, which could easily pierce a Frost Giant. When all was ready, and he made sure he had everything, had anyone else been in the room with him, they would have deemed him worthy of the title "Warrior Prince." He stood tall and mighty as the son of Odin he was, and being clad in black from head to toe, he looked to be a shadow in the room of gold, fitting considering his sometimes mischievous actions. The two torches that stood on either side of the double doors that led to the hall cast a heavenly glow over him, and on his face he wore a look of pure determination and strength, his eyes capable of being as fierce as they could be gentle.

Meanwhile, Aska, the ash-covered maid by day, had slipped into her nightly disguise as the Purple Phantom. She wore a sleeveless purple unitard with leggings, bits of gold stretching down the bodice, a split skirt bordered with gold, and a belt to hold her weapons: a medallion and hilt of a sword which could turn into a shield and bring forth a blade at the press of a button – courtesy of Jarl. Covering her head was the purple hood of a sleeveless vest also bordered with gold, keeping mostly hidden her now let down pale hair. She wore purple gloves which traveled past her elbows and had gold armlets encircling the wrists, and she also wore dark purple boots that reached up to her knees. On her face, she wore not just an expression of valiance and fighting spirit, but also an unadorned purple mask to conceal her identity. She stood equally as tall and proud, and though her pale blue eyes looked determined, they carried the same twinkle as the stars that shone in the sky outside.

What neither knew was that at the exact same moment, both declared the same thing, in unconscious unison, "It's show time." And then, both proceeded to leave their lodgings. Loki left through the double doors to meet the rest of his group, while Aska, now the Purple Phantom, hurried through her window to greet the cold, nighttime air and go find the horse she'd managed to keep secret even longer than her alter-ego. Both, however, were set on seeing their missions accomplished, though neither knew for sure what the future had in store for them.

* * *

_Reviews would be appreciated._


	4. The Phantom and the Prince

_A/N: I imagined Aska's fighting style to be similar to Cassandra's in Soul Calibur 4. I wrote this while listening to "Daybreaker" from Soul Calibur 5._

* * *

**Not Your Average Cinderella**

Chapter 3 – The Phantom and The Prince

Underneath the black canopy dotted with thousands of silver, distant lights that hung over the realm of Asgard, most of her citizens had undergone the nightly routine of going to rest. Though they were mindful that their realm was home to the great warrior king Odin, they did not know that they owed another peaceful night of sleep to the efforts of one of their princes, and a lone warrior who was content to let her identity remain unknown, both of whom well aware of the possibility of crossing each other's paths.

After walking through the near endless halls of the massive palace he called home, and doing some of his own serious thinking regarding how this might affect his relationship with his father, Loki finally strode through one of the side entrances, where Thor and the rest of his fellow warriors awaited outside, making last-minute preparations to their weapons before they would mount their steeds. Once they heard the doors opening, all five turned to see the last member of their group make his way toward them, standing tall and appearing as confident as his companions.

"Loki!" Thor smiled as he walked over to greet him with a slap on the back, "So you've decided to join us after all!"

Loki returned his brother's smile with one of his own, but his confusion was already evident on his face. "You know I care about the safety of our realm as much as you do," he said. Though he knew Thor was teasing him, it was clear to him as much as anyone else that he greatly valued his strength and his mighty hammer Mjolnir. Loki, however, had already proven himself on the battlefield with cunning and trickery, which he viewed as just as effective if not more so.

"Well then, shall we?" Fandral suddenly asked, "On to the land of the blue giants!"

"Those 'giants' will not take our opposition lightly," Hogun reminded him in his usual grim way for which he was named.

"And if they wish to make war with our realm, they will have to pass through us," Sif declared as she walked over to her horse.

"Hmph, let the barbarians try!" Volstagg exclaimed, deciding to put his own two sense in.

Suddenly, Thor turned around and in a wave of authority fitting his demeanor as crown prince, said, "Alright, enough talk. It's time for us to depart."

Everyone immediately went silent, allowing him to turn back to his brother and give him a questioning look. Loki, in response, only smiled and nodded. "Of course."

Thor nodded back, and without another word, the two turned and headed toward their horses, giving the other warriors permission to do so. Loki swiftly mounted his familiar black stallion he rode earlier that morning, and Thor just as quickly jumped onto his stallion, as white as Loki's was black. The four other warriors mounted theirs as well. After seeing that all had their weapons in hand, as well as the courage and determination that defined a warrior's character, Thor set his horse off into a canter, with Loki and then Sif and the Warriors Three following. None of them looked back even once as they finally left the palace grounds and passed the guards at the main entrance, but all of them shared the intense intention to accomplish their mission and serve their realm well.

Loki, however, had the additional intention known only to himself – as shown by the pure concentration that donned his face – to prove to his father, as he'd insisted earlier, to show him that he was no longer a boy, but a man with the same needs as a peasant. No matter what happened, no matter whom he came across, this was a mission he needed to see to completion as much as the other.

* * *

As six of Asgard's finest warriors made their way to the teleportation dome, a seventh was hurrying just as quickly down the same pathway she'd traveled on just that morning toward the stables. Clothed in purple, like a shadow in the night, she ran as fast as she could, knowing she could not lose any valuable time. For now, she wasn't serving just her mistress and her daughters, but her entire realm, even those who would be just as quick to hunt her down.

But tonight, as much as she took a secret thrill in doing so, she couldn't take the risk. The Purple Phantom – otherwise known as the plain and timid Aska – didn't stop until she finally saw the solitary and familiar wooden building. It felt like an eternity since she snuck out her window, and her face lit up the moment she at last reached her destination. Now was the time to really put her plan into action.

Though far from the house, Aska quietly opened the door, letting the small amount of light the night sky allowed in, so as not to awaken the sleeping horses, which would instantly neigh the moment they saw her. They would easily recognize her with or without her mask. As she briefly let her eyes get used to the darkness still prevalent inside, she hoped that the horse she was planning to ride would not greet her as loudly as they usually did.

After then taking up the ladder that stood on her left, which was always slightly heavier than it looked, even for her, Aska planted it in the middle of the stables, underneath the triangular shaped structure that held the roof. Long ago, she'd discovered that one of the wooden planks on the structure was loose, giving her a clever hiding place for her horse's special tack, which matched her purple and gold costume perfectly. She hastily ascended the ladder, and moved the plank aside, and smiled upon discovering that the tack was there as she'd previously left it.

Aska took a deep breath before placing her hands on the heaviest of the equipment: the saddle. With gritted teeth, she lifted it out of the alcove, balancing on one of the rungs of the ladder as she did so. However, it seemed her fingers lacked their usual strength, and she ended up dropping the saddle before she could descend back down the ladder. Before it even landed on the hay-covered floor, she bit her lip and shut her eyes, but she couldn't cover her ears in time to keep from hearing it hit the ground.

She waited with a pounding heart for the sound of horses that had been rudely awakened. But as she stood still on the ladder, she heard only a few small noises and nothing more. So the horses had been briefly disturbed, yet they remained asleep. Aska opened her eyes again and, seeing that the horses still had their heads down, softly breathed a sigh of relief. She then proceeded to get the saddle-blanket and the decorated bridle before going back down the ladder and setting them beside the saddle.

Once every piece of equipment was out, Aska headed as quietly as possible toward and then opened the door on the other side of the stable. She exited the building, and looked back one more time to make sure the rest of the horses stayed asleep. As soon as she was certain, and once she was sure she was far away enough, she turned around, and took a moment to look out at the darkened, almost haunting, version of the same, vast landscape she beheld hours earlier. But returning her focus once again on her mission, she then put her gloved fingers to her mouth, and whistled the signature, three-noted whistle she used to call her beloved secret horse, Dagny.

For a short while, she wondered if she should have gotten a bit further away, until she at last heard a neigh she'd recognize anywhere, and saw a pale, four-legged silhouette cantering her way across the extensive green field. Though she looked as though she had no owner by her lack of bridle and free-flowing mane, Aska knew very well that this horse was hers. She trotted up the small slope toward her, and Aska smiled as greatly as she could as Dagny neighed her friendly greetings. She couldn't resist taking her muzzle in her hands and pressing it to her cheek before kissing it and scratching it, causing the mare to whinny in delight.

For a moment, Aska allowed a brief time to lose herself in her beautiful horse's large brown eyes. The only times she rode her was when she was dressed as the Purple Phantom, though she had learned long ago that Dagny had been trained to carry a rider, further adding to her mystery. Like Regin and Jarl, she could be trusted to keep a secret, and also like the two, she was a great friend, never mind that she was a horse. Sometimes Aska even spoke to her as if she were a person, almost certain that she could understand her, and tonight was one of those times.

"Well girl, we have another mission ahead of us tonight," she smiled, "Are you up to it?"

In a response that Aska couldn't help but giggle at, Dagny whinnied and tossed her head as if to nod.

"I knew you'd be," Aska smiled greater as she scratched her horse's ears. Now all she had to do was get the tack on, and quickly.

"Stay here," she said. She then turned around and hurried quietly back to the stables to retrieve the saddle, the saddle blanket, and the bridle. The saddle, like most, was made of fine leather, and weighed at least half that of a grown man. The blanket underneath was purple like her costume, and adorned with gold fringe. The bridle too was made of leather, but also on the reins hung purple material interwoven with gold. Obviously one's steed had to match one's appearance of her alter-ego.

Once all of the tack was on, Aska took the reins in one hand, and one foot in one of the stirrups, and finally hoisted herself up onto Dagny's back. It seemed as though Dagny could sense Aska's inner excitement, for the moment she was on, the mare began walking, and soon trotting through the landscape. Aska held the reins firm in her hands, and did not look back at the stable. Like she had done so on her previous missions, she would be taking the longer way to get to the main road, to keep either Lady Ylva or Brynja from seeing her. And, like she had done so before, she smiled mischievously at the notion that the Purple Phantom – so unlike the person both Ylva and Brynja knew – was living right under her mistress's nose.

However, once she got to the main road, Aska's concentration returned and she eased her horse into a smooth canter. Quickly, but largely unnoticed, horse and rider made their way together through the now-sleeping town that Aska traveled so often through. She had little worry of being seen by anyone, for most of the citizens and shopkeepers had retired to their beds. If anyone was awake at this hour of the night, it was those who preferred to spend their evenings drowning themselves in wine. Nor did Aska have to fear the darkness. Even in the dim light of the torches that hung on every two or three houses she passed, Aska knew this road as well as anyone. She fancied that she could travel through it blindfolded, as she knew just about every corner and turn. For a moment, for the humor, she briefly closed her eyes, and guessed rightly the moment she'd make the next turn before opening them again. For the time being, it appeared her theory had proved correct. But no more games could be played tonight.

As Aska rode Dagny down the pathway, she paid little to no heed to the way her heartbeat was slowly increasing. Though she knew the way to the teleportation dome, she'd never been there before. And the possibility of coming across the king's warriors – maybe even one of the princes – reared its head once more. Then there was the matter of getting past Heimdall, the guardian of the dome. She never met him before, but she, like everyone else in Asgard, knew that the man was in no way a fool, and had senses advanced far beyond those of the average Asgardian. Though, how Frost Giants kept getting past him she would likely never know. All she knew, as she continued to ride, was that she'd have to be clever if she wanted to leave this realm for Jotunheim.

Shortly after she began to wonder if she'd ever make it to the dome at all, Aska finally reined Dagny to a halt the moment she saw the great, solitary monument on the horizon. The large golden structure stood alone on a platform raised above the darkest waters Aska had ever seen. Though she knew how to swim, she didn't know if she would like to fall into that. She also spotted the dozens, if not hundreds, of-yards-long Bifröst Bridge, made of what appeared to be a material similar to glass, and glinting with the colors of the rainbow for which it was named. From where she stood, she believed it ran all the way to the palace, which stood in the exact center of the realm, and seemed to act as a guardian itself over her great home.

Suddenly, another sight caught her eye, causing her to immediately turn to it. As soon as she did, Aska's eyes widened when she saw six horses standing outside the dome. Their riders – whom she could see from here to be a woman and five men – stood in front of the entrance, conversing, it seemed, with the guardian Heimdall. Her eyes widened even more when she attempted to get a closer look, for she found that she knew these people. Though she'd seen them only one or two times in person, she now had little to no trouble recognizing four of them as Lady Sif and the Warriors Three. But it was the last two that finally made her release a gasp. Not only did she see Prince Thor, Odin's older son and heir to the throne of Asgard, but beside him stood his brother, Loki.

Instantly, her heart began to race, and Aska wondered if she should try to hide, if she should abandon the mission completely. However, it seemed as though her body made the decision to stay before her mind did, as no matter how much she wished to turn Dagny around, Aska continued to look down at the figures as they walked inside the dome. In that moment, a spark of inspiration ignited within her, and she realized that she could not allow anything – or anyone – to stand between her and finishing her quest. Not the princes, not their fellow warriors, not Heimdall, and especially, not herself.

Fortunately, she made her decision at just the right moment. Before long, Aska saw a bright, near-blinding light shoot high into the sky in the blink of an eye, and felt a bit of a shaking sensation even from where she stood. The moment she felt Dagny begin to get skittish, she reined her horse in before she could neigh in panic. In an attempt to calm her steed, Aska laid her hand on her neck and began stroking her until the sensation passed and the ray of light disappeared into the darkness of the night. Once she was sure that she was calm enough to go on forward, Aska encouraged her into a trot, and then into a canter, toward the bridge that would lead her to the dome, which would, hopefully, lead her to Jotunheim.

As she heard her horse's hooves against the rainbow bridge, and as the dome seem to enlarge the closer she got to it, only then did Aska realize the true gravity of the situation. She really was intending to leave her home realm without permission from the king. She knew this feeling. She felt it the first time she fought as the Purple Phantom, the feeling of mixing right and wrong. Though the right seemed to outweigh the wrong in both cases, it could not prevent the sensation of the weight on Aska's shoulders get heavier and heavier the closer she got to the dome. Could she really intentionally defy the king and follow his sons and warriors into the realm of the Frost Giants?

Once she finally reached the dome, and regained the nerve feelings in her fingers to pull her horse to a stop, Aska finally beheld the great guardian of the teleportation dome himself, and felt even more unsure of her mission before. Yet, somehow, her inner instincts urged her to stay strong. _Don't retreat_, she thought to herself, _Stand tall. Think of your duty to your realm._

Forcing herself to move, Aska dismounted from Dagny, and remembered just in time to hold her head high and stand straight, before swallowing nervously, and finally striding towards Heimdall, who immediately looked even more intimidating than she expected.

He was tall, with broad shoulders, and skin the color of bronze. He wore a suit of armor made of gold, and held a scepter about as tall as him in front of him with both hands. His striking eyes, the same color as his armor, met her own pale ones with an intense gaze as she got closer to him. Aska was by now aware of the sweat that she felt begin to break out on her forehead. Even so, she moved one more step forward, then another, until she finally stood just a few steps in front of him.

For a moment, neither said a word. After wondering about her other options, Aska chose to take another step forward, when Heimdall suddenly stopped her in a great, deep voice that perfectly fitted his mighty demeanor. "Halt!"

Aska literally froze before moving her foot back, trying her best to remain calm. Heimdall, however, hadn't moved an inch, standing as still as a statue.

"You are the one they call the Purple Phantom?" he asked slowly.

It took a short while for Aska to remember that she herself had a tongue. "Indeed, I am," she replied with a respectful voice.

"And you have the intention of leaving this realm for Jotunheim, to follow the sons of Odin and his warriors?" he asked.

For an instant, Aska allowed herself to wonder how he'd known that, when she remembered who Heimdall was. Though she had the feeling he already knew the answer, she nonetheless nodded in the affirmative. "Yes," she said, "I am well aware that all Asgardians are restricted by royal decree to leave this realm for another without royal permission, but I'm afraid I've already been acting outside the law for quite some time now."

Mustering as much confidence as possible, Aska made herself look directly at the great guardian. "Even so, I have already proven my loyalty to this realm," she said, "And I do not wish for harm to come to it. Therefore, if you could please grant me this favor, and let me follow the princes and the warriors, I would be most grateful."

Heimdall did not respond. At least not immediately. Aska fought the temptation to bite her lip nervously, refusing to appear the least bit cowardly before this man. Still, she anxiously awaited his answer, whatever it may be. Any answer would satisfy her by now.

Before too much time passed, though, Heimdall finally spoke to her. "Not many are so bold as to willingly leave their realm for another," he said.

Aska stood frozen before him. She didn't even allow herself to blink.

"But you have proven yourself noble, and your intentions are pure," he continued, his eyes as unblinking as hers. His next few words, however, made her eyes widen with surprise. "Very well, I will permit you admittance. The crown prince and his brother would be wise to allow you to join their group."

Despite her previous nervousness toward him, Aska managed to let a small smile cross her lips as she nodded briefly.

"But beware," he then said, "Jotunheim is the realm of the Frost Giants. They are ruthless to those who intrude in their home."

Though already aware of the danger that lay ahead of her, Aska nonetheless gave a nod in gratitude. "I am ready to face them," she declared.

"Then come with me," Heimdall said. He finally moved, turning around and then walking inside the dome itself. Aska followed him, and couldn't help but look around at how enormous the dome seemed. A dais, presumably for Heimdall's staff, was raised in the center. Images of the cosmos adorned the walls, images of heroes, of warriors, of valkyries. It didn't take long for Aska to become mesmerized at the pictures of times gone by, when she suddenly looked to see Heimdall plant his staff in the center of the dais. Right before her eyes, a golden light began spreading from the dais and all around the floor of the dome. She immediately recognized the shapes it took to be images of the branches of the great Tree of Yggdrasil, which contained all of the nine realms.

Suddenly, Aska turned to see what looked to be a large, dense tunnel of swirling colors appear at one end of the room. _A portal to Jotunheim_, she reasoned. Now that the pathway lay ahead of her, she quickly decided to act fast before she could even think about turning back. She turned to Heimdall and nodded her thanks, before she took one step, then two, then three toward the vortex that would transport her to the realm of Jotunheim. Gazing at the near endlessness of it, and taking a deep breath, Aska charged forward, closed her eyes, and then leaped into the tunnel.

For a time that seemed very short yet very long at once, Aska kept her eyes closed as she felt the sensation of flying and falling at the same time. Her heart began to beat rapidly, and she wondered if she would meet her end before she could even begin to serve her realm. But soon, she felt herself land on solid ground as though she had jumped only a short distance. The sound of a very faint wind filled her ears, until she finally opened her eyes, which immediately widened upon seeing for the first time a realm so foreign to her own.

This, of course, wasn't the first time she'd seen snow, but never had she seen it before in such vast amounts. As far as her eyes could see, to the tip of the horizon, she gazed upon the world of pure, pristine white ahead of her. Thousands of small snowflakes descended lightly down from the sky. Aska wondered if the dark-gray-mixed-with-blue expanse above her was like this only during the night, or whether it remained so all the time, which would not have surprised her. The fitting coldness of the realm rested itself on her upper body, causing her to shiver slightly. In the distance, she could see what appeared to be a chain of mountains, and several structures made purely of ice, including what appeared to be the home of the leader of the Frost Giants himself, Laufey. It also seemed that the realm consisted mostly of cliffside pathways, as she looked down to see what appeared to be an endless drop beneath.

Had Aska looked at it any longer, she likely would have begun to feel sick. But she quickly averted her eyes, and just as fast remembered that she still hadn't taken out her weapons. Taking her medallion in her left hand, and taking the hilt of her sword in her right, she pressed both buttons, and immediately gained both a shield and a sword.

With both weapons in hand, Aska looked on the path ahead of her, and immediately became intrigued when she saw what appeared to be fresh footprints in the snow. Several of them, all going the same way, forward. Deciding to take the risk, Aska took a final deep breath before hurrying off in the direction of the footprints, holding her weapons up, daring any threats to even try and surprise her.

* * *

As the vigilante in purple followed the trail they unintentionally left for her, Loki, Thor, and the rest of their group made their way deeper into the realm of the Frost Giants. All six of them stayed on the alert, ready for any of the land's inhabitants to assault them. Thor held firmly his great hammer, while Loki kept his hand on his knives, both of them ready to defend themselves at a moment's notice. But at one point, as they came closer to the crystallized home of the realm's once mighty ruler, Loki almost at once received a silent, invisible signal in his mind that something was amiss. Though he could not identify the strange sensation, it was powerful enough to make him lose concentration, and slow to a stop.

"Thor," he said to his brother, causing him and the other four to halt as well. He immediately noticed the troubled expression on Loki's face.

"What?" he asked, "What is it?"

"I…I'm not exactly sure," Loki replied, not knowing what else to say. For a moment, he looked around with scanning eyes before looking back again at Thor. "Only…I only have the feeling that, we're not alone."

"What do you mean?" Thor asked.

"I'm not certain," Loki replied, "I just, have this strange sense."

"The Frost Giants are not fools," Sif spoke up, "They could be planning to attack us."

Despite wanting to suggest otherwise, caution quickly caught up with Loki's newly discovered sixth sense, and he nodded in agreement. "Maybe." He then turned back to his brother and made a proposition. "We must not overlook even the least suspicious detail."

"Agreed," Thor nodded, "That being said, I suggest we keep moving."

Loki nodded back, and he, Sif, and the Warriors Three continued to follow Thor through the realm of cold and white, none of them speaking any further of the matter. Before long though, they found themselves in front of the great ice palace of Laufey, where he and the rest of his ill-fated race had been sealed away by Odin so many years before.

The entrance was completely covered by a magnificent, formidable wall of ice that seemed to stretch miles high to the sky. If the Frost Giants had indeed found a way around Odin's seal, it certainly was not through trying to break the wall, as there was not even the smallest crack the princes or the warriors could see. Neither, as some had expected – and secretly hoped – did they greet an army of Jotuns waiting for them. The mystery only seemed to deepen and bring more questions than answers for all of the group. At least, that was how it seemed at first.

Being the bravest – or perhaps the least cautious – of the six, Loki watched as Thor walked over to the wall itself. With his free hand, he felt the instantly cold material against his skin, searching for any abnormality to the structure, and yet – to his frustration – could find none. Remembering that he had Mjolnir in his other hand, Thor decided to take the risk of breaking the wall at all, and drew his hammer back, gathering all his strength as he did so, before he rammed it as hard as he could into the mighty curtain. Nothing, not even the slightest crack, showed up, causing even more frustration to build up within him.

"This doesn't make any sense!" he exclaimed through gritted teeth.

"Isn't that why we're here?" Fandral couldn't help but ask sarcastically.

Both Loki and Thor rolled their eyes slightly, neither exactly in the mood for such an attitude at this most inappropriate of times. Just then, though, Thor had to ask, "But how is it in any way possible for the Jotuns to break the seal if not even my hammer could?"

Upon hearing his brother's question, Loki donned a thinking expression, frowning when he came to a startling revelation. "Perhaps the Frost Giants are smarter than we've been giving them credit for," he suggested.

"Nonsense!" Volstagg roughly dismissed him, "That would mean…"

"You should not have come here!" a deep, sinister voice suddenly interrupted him. All six instantly turned in the direction, and froze in alarm upon seeing a giant of a man at least twice the size of Thor or Loki. He stood like a tall, foreboding tree trunk, with long, strong arms that could easily crush a normal sized person. Cold, icy-blue skin covered his body, and his large, fiery red eyes seemed to be furnaces of fury as he laid his fierce, unmoving gaze on the group of intruders.

"Why do you contaminate our realm with your presence?!" he demanded.

Though Loki and the others showed great immediate caution at the monster of a man before them, Thor, not one to be so easily intimidated, stood straight in a manner befitting that of one titled as he was, and proudly declared, "I am Thor Odinson, crown prince of the realm of Asgard! And it has come to our attention that your kind has been contaminating _our _realm with _your _presence!"

The moment he finished speaking, he, Loki, and the rest felt the ground begin to shake slightly. It didn't take long for them to realize that it came from more Jotuns, much like the one they had just greeted, come to join their accomplice for aid in ridding their home of these foolish weaklings – or so they at first seemed. Loki, seeing Thor clench his hammer in his hand, a sure sign that his patience was soon to run out, he quickly ran to his side in an attempt to remind him of their father's near constant lessons on that oh-so-elusive virtue.

"Thor," he said in the calmest voice he could muster, "Stop. Don't be rash. Think before you act."

"You should listen to his counsel," another Jotun said as he took one, then two steps toward them, his eyes as menacing as the one they first met, "All of you would be wise to leave at once, before you make the gravest mistake of your lives." This he said as an ice gauntlet formed on his arm. Thor, however, had just been given even more fuel to let ice meet fire – or rather, his hammer.

"May I remind you whom you are dealing with?" he asked rhetorically, the heat all too prevalent in his voice. Before his brother's dismayed eyes, Thor began to raise Mjolnir, causing Loki to quickly grab his wrist. "No, Thor!" he protested. Thor just as instantly turned his intense expression on Loki, and was just about to protest in return, when suddenly, a feminine, authoritative sounding voice reached their ears.

"Stop!"

Both princes stopped what they were doing immediately. With raised eyebrows and great curiosity, the two turned in the direction of the voice, as did the rest of their companions and even the Frost Giants surrounding them, and all pairs of eyes, both clear and red, widened at the sight they beheld. Before them stood a young woman adorned in purple and gold, holding a shield in her left hand and a sword in her right. But none could make out her face, as a mask across it obscured her features. Still, it didn't take long for anyone there to figure out who she was.

"No!" one of the Jotuns exclaimed in disbelief.

The Warriors Three, Thor, and particularly Loki, couldn't anymore believe the sensation of seeing the one person they had heard of but not really imagined to come across. It seemed to Loki that he had been right about his previous theory after all, and yet, the shock remained. "Wha-," he couldn't help but stammer, "You're…!"

"Right!" she interrupted him, a faint smile crossing her lips, "The Purple Phantom has arrived!"

She then proceeded forward. But as she did so, Loki, in spite of the slight admiration he now felt having seen this woman for the first time, remembered that as a prince, and thus an enforcer of his father's law, he could not allow a person who was not formally one of Odin's warriors to fight. Even if her intentions and previous actions were noble, circumstance could not let her repeat them.

"Wait!" he called out. Abruptly, she stopped, her eyes behind her mask widening with what appeared to be surprise.

Loki continued. "I'm afraid that as prince of Asgard, I must order you to drop your weapons and stand down."

Though it appeared at first that she might comply, the masked woman then raised her shield and sword before walking again toward him, the smile having left her face. "With all due respect, Your Highness," she said in a respectful tone, "I brought my weapons for a reason."

Before he could reply, she pointed her sword, not at him, but at one of the Frost Giants. His mouth hanging open, Loki couldn't help but watch as she approached him with little to no hesitation. "And I will not leave until I get the answers I so desire," she declared.

In a moment that seemed to thrive on tension, no one spoke, as one by one all of the Jotuns surrounding the seven warriors gained ice gauntlets. As they began to advance on them, however, none of the seven hesitated to walk back a step or two, most of them trying to hold off any amount of conflict for as long as possible. For seconds that seemed like hints of eternity, everyone remained as collected as possible as the intensity around them slowly built, when it finally came to a climax.

"If it's answers you all want," a Frost Giant suddenly said, "then you'll have to beat them out of us!"

Like lightning in a clear sky, that same Frost Giant swiftly hurled his ice gauntlet in the purple vigilante's direction. Loki looked to see her guard herself with her shield and sword in a split second reaction, and gasped as she was nonetheless hurled across the floor of ice and snow by the impact. For him, as well as the rest, that did it.

"Now?" Thor asked his brother.

Loki, in spite of his attempts to avoid the inevitable fight, nodded and replied, "Now."

Now that he had permission, Thor readied his hammer while Hogun readied his mace, Sif her spear, Volstagg his axe, and Fandral his sword. All five then began to defend themselves against the Jotuns that were already rushing toward them, slashing, countering, and fighting to the best of their ability. While they did so, as if in retaliation at what he'd just witnessed, Loki threw a knife at the Giant who attacked the Purple Phantom. Once he was shot down, Loki immediately hurried toward her and quickly assisted her back on her feet in a rather chivalrous manner.

"Madam," he said, holding her by the arms and looking straight at her, "listen to me! You must leave now!"

For a moment, the two only looked at each other, neither really knowing what to say. It wasn't long, though, before the Purple Phantom released herself from the warrior prince's hold, and picked up her sword off the ground. Looking at him again, she gave him a bit of a smirk.

"I appreciate your concern, Highness," she said, "But I came here to fight."

Though he opened his mouth to reply, the masked woman hurried out of his way, and toward the battlefield ahead of them. Loki then heard what sounded like a battlecry in the caverns above, and saw a Frost Giant leap forward, his fist ready to crack the ground and send a wave of ice toward his opponent. Seeing that it might be the Purple Phantom, Loki was about to warn her, when he saw her swiftly shove him out of the way with her sword and shield, sending him crashing to the floor.

Loki unconsciously raised his eyebrows. Perhaps this young woman was a capable fighter after all. But not one to be easily distracted, the moment he heard danger coming his way, Loki hurled another knife in its direction, and struck down another Frost Giant.

* * *

While Loki, Thor, and the other four warriors fought off every Jotun who dared to cross them, Aska was giving it her all. After giving a high kick to another Giant, she broke his ice gauntlet into a dozen shards with her sword before jumping and bringing down both weapons on her opponent. The next second, she heard footsteps behind her which caused the ground to shake. Knowing immediately that this was no friend, she spun around and shattered his gauntlet, before turning again and knocking him down with her shield.

Just then, she heard the sound of a fist slamming itself into the ground. Aska quickly turned her head, and once she realized the wave was coming for her, she instantly jumped out of the way, performing a diving roll, and landing behind an ice curtain. A triumphant and proud smile grew on the Giant's face as he strode over to the structure, ready to trap and capture his prey like the predator he was. "Not so tough are you, princess?" He soon received his answer, when Aska took both his wrists, and put them behind his back. She then pulled on one of them as hard as she could before bringing her sword forward.

Suddenly, she felt the ground shake again. She hastily turned around to see that a Frost Giant had fallen just a few feet from her, with an ice knife imbedded in his chest. Knowing instantly who it was who knocked the Jotun down, Aska looked and couldn't help but smile her thanks at Loki.

But then, the sound of running feet reached her ears, and she quickly turned her head to see another Giant, headed straight for Loki. Aska looked back at him to see what he would do, and watched in disbelief as the prince only stared at the monster rushing toward him, looking behind him when he realized he was standing on the edge of the cliffside.

"Your Highness!" Aska screamed, "Get out of the way!"

To her utter shock, he did not heed her warning, but remained where he was. Aska gasped the moment she saw the Jotun leap toward him. But just as he was grabbing him, it appeared that he might as well have grabbed thin air, as he passed right through Loki, and descended down into the abyss behind him. Aska then watched with startled eyes as another figure who looked just like his Highness appeared from behind another ice curtain. With a wave of his hand, his twin quickly disappeared. And in that moment, the instant realization donned on her, Aska immediately breathed a sigh of relief, and felt a little bit silly, having forgotten that Loki had the ability to create illusions.

She, of course, couldn't stay relieved for long though, as she instantly caught sight of another enemy coming toward her with ice gauntlets covering both his hands. Aska quickly raised her shield and sword in front of her, and this time, she held her ground as the ice met her shield. The impact created sparks, but she was not easily surprised. Using her sword she broke one of the ice gauntlets. Her opponent tried to knock her off her feet, but she jumped to escape the blow. Before he could try to knock her down again, she hit him with her shield and broke his other gauntlet with her sword.

Suddenly, another sound came to her, one that nearly made her heart stop. It was the sound of a painful cry from ice being imbedded not in a Frost Giant, but in one of her comrades. Aska quickly turned, and her mouth fell open when she saw that Loki had been hit with a wave of sharp ice, and received a large wound in his right shoulder. Though the sight greatly terrified her, she reminded herself that it might be another one of Loki's tricks. She waited for the real Loki to emerge and do away with the illusion. But after not seeing him for the next few seconds, and watching him begin to writhe in the pain of his new wound, Aska's shock returned in an even greater amount when she realized that this was the real Loki, and he truly was hurt.

* * *

As Loki lay on the ground, he let out another shout as a fresh shot of pain traveled through his shoulder. Despite the cold climate, and the fact that he was lying on a floor of ice and snow, he felt like his body was on fire, and he was wishing to simply melt away, for anything to relieve him of this agony. He pressed his hand to his wound, and though he hesitated at first, he slowly pulled it away, and his eyes widened when he saw his palm and his fingers covered with dark red blood. Trying to distract himself, he looked at the scene before him. All of his comrades, including the Purple Phantom, having immediately defeated their opponents, looked with frightened alarm the moment he saw him. Indeed, it was almost as if time itself seemed to freeze with shock.

But before any of them could try to help him, the ground began to shake the most it ever had. One sensation passed, then two, followed by a third, each one making its terrifying presence known, and everyone there knew that this kind of presence could come from only one possible source. Reluctantly, the Asgardian warriors turned their heads, and noticed that one of the ice structures, sculpted into the shape of a large, vicious, four-legged monster, seemed to be moving, trying as hard as it could to break out of its prison.

The rest of the warriors standing did not hesitate to back away, as right before their eyes, the barbaric, monstrous, red-eyed beast finally made its way through, letting loose a loud, deafening roar as it did so. Large, threateningly sharp claws were attatched to its feet, four spikes to the end of the long tail, and its mouth were the sharpest teeth any one of them had seen.

And yet, for all of its wild, untamable nature it seemed to pride itself in showing, the monster was actually being ridden. On the top of its head stood what appeared to be a Jotun, but unlike any of the others the warriors had seen before. This one had long, black hair, the body was shaped differently, and the face seemed to carry a rather non-masculine demeanor. Was this a female Frost Giant?

No one, especially Loki, could answer that question as fast as they wished, for the monster, along with its rider, stopped right in front of Loki. As he continued to feel new, painful shots from his shoulder, Loki managed to meet the female Giant's red eyes with his own. It didn't take long for him to realize that hers seemed to be mocking him.

"Well, look at you, son of the mighty Odin," she said in a loud voice that clearly defined her pride, "Oh how the mighty have fallen!"

Just then, Loki watched as she pulled from the side of her belt the long, silver blade of a sharp sword. Once she pointed it at him, his confidence slowly seemed to fade away like fog on a summer's day. Too weak to try and defend himself, he kept his hand on his wound, laid down, and slowly closed his eyes, knowing very well that every following second that he remained alive could be his last.

And yet, the painful, tearing sensation of weapon meeting flesh never came to him. Instead, Loki heard footsteps, soft ones, fast approaching. Forcing himself to try and see who it was, Loki raised himself up slightly, and opened his eyes, which instantly widened as he saw none other than the Purple Phantom coming to his defense. In no time at all, she quickly stood between him and the monster and its rider, shield and sword raised. Though he couldn't see her face, he imagined it to be one of great anger the moment he heard her speak.

"Dare touch him, and I'll kill you!"

Though hearing the clear demand in his new ally's voice, as Loki expected, the monster and the rider did not back down. Instead, the Jotun raised her sword, pointing it at her new opponent, her furious red eyes now locked on her. "Then you shall die first!" she declared.

Though he otherwise would have preferred not to watch, Loki's eyes, apparently having a mind of their own, watched anxiously for the coming battle, almost desperate to know if the Purple Phantom would succeed as well as she'd been reputed to.

Right before his eyes, the masked woman instantly ran toward the great beast. After darting under its mouth, she then jumped, her weapons raised high in the air before finally shoving her sword down on the monster's foot. The beast gave a great, painful roar, but Loki's eyes remained focused on the Purple Phantom as she used her chance to then climb up the side of the monster's neck. Before another second could pass, the Frost Giant and the masked vigilante faced each other. The Jotun tried bringing her sword down on the Purple Phantom, but she quickly raised her own sword and shield in front of her, blocking the Jotun's blow. Both pressed on each other with great, equal force, each one determined to get the upper hand. Suddenly, right when it seemed the female Giant would finally stab her, the Phantom ducked to the left, and brought her left fist along with her shield to her opponent's face.

Loki watched as the Jotun was immediately knocked off the monster, and fell to the ground where she lay unconscious. But the battle wasn't completely over. Loki then looked to see the Phantom stand firmly on top of the beast's head. Before it could try to throw her off, Loki's eyes widened as the woman rammed her sword into its head. The monster let out one final roar, before it finally groaned, lost its footing, and immediately met the ground in a great crash.

The ground shook for a final time, causing new waves of pain to travel through Loki's body. He groaned again as he pressed his hand more firmly against his wound, and laid back down on the ground where he struggled to catch his breath. Though he heard footsteps rush toward him, Loki didn't know if he could open his eyes again. He kept them shut as he then turned his head to the side, wondering if he would ever escape this great tribulation.

* * *

_Reviews would be appreciated._


	5. A Race Against Time

**Not Your Average Cinderella**

Chapter 4 – A Race Against Time

The moment she felt the monster beneath her fall head-first to the icy floor, Aska held tightly onto the hilt of her sword. As soon as the now dead beast hit the ground, she nearly slipped, but quickly regained her footing, panting as she felt sweat form on her forehead. But although she felt the weight of fighting so hard press itself on her shoulders, she had far from forgotten about the next great problem set before her. The groan that then reached her ears instantly made her raise her head. Putting her own battle-hardened state aside, she quickly pressed the buttons on her shield and sword, causing the shield to return to a medallion and the blade to retract back inside the hilt. After then placing both inside her belt, she jumped off of the monster and rushed as fast as she could over to Loki. Joining her was Thor, who wore the same concerned and fearful expression she did. But whether his heart was pounding as hard and as fast as hers, she couldn't say.

Not knowing whether or not she should try to touch him, her eyes widened at the blood covering each of the prince's fingertips, Aska called in a soft but urgent voice, "Your Highness!"

"Loki!" Thor called slightly more abrasively. Loki immediately moaned in response to both, his chest heaving, his face going pale. Even so, he managed to open his eyes to behold the faces before him.

"Thor," he croaked. Though his mouth moved further, no words came through, and he closed his eyes again. While Aska remained frozen as the ice around her in shock, Thor quickly moved his brother's bloody hand aside, and both finally saw just how ugly his wound was. A four-inch long, deep looking wound stretched vertically down from his shoulder, and blood was continuing to seep out of it. Aska quickly put her hand to her mouth and averted her eyes, wondering if she would soon become ill at the sight. Still, she couldn't help but watch as Thor then pressed his hands on Loki's left chest, likely feeling for his heartbeat beneath his suit.

"He needs immediate aid!" he concluded, "We need to get him back to Asgard, fast!"

It was then that Aska realized she was hearing the now familiar struggles of battle behind her. She looked around, and frowned in dismay as she saw the rest of the warriors still fighting off more Frost Giants just as hard, if not more so, than before. _Will it never end?_ she wondered. But then, when she looked back at Loki, and saw this great prince of Asgard, one of the two sons of Odin, as a simple man – indeed, a friend almost – in need, some unnamed but prevalent force seemed to tug magnetically at her heart. She didn't know where it had come from, but it was almost as if she too had received a wound to the shoulder, as if his pain was her pain also. It seemed to build within her, like steam desperate to escape, until it finally turned into a driving force she knew all too well. Replacing her worried look into one of pure concentration, Aska nodded to herself, and then turned to Thor.

"I'll go," she declared in a voice devoid of panic, "I'll take him back."

As fast as a lightning bolt, Thor turned to her with eyebrows raised in surprise. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"I am more than capable," Aska replied, "And your fellow warriors need you."

"But that wasn't the only beast," Thor warned her, "You might be followed."

Aska narrowed her eyes, as she knew very well of the danger that lay ahead of her. Now that the image of the monster's red eyes had been burned into her memory, she was even more determined than before. "Let them try," she said. And before Thor could even open his mouth to respond, she laid her hands on Loki's arm and underneath his bad shoulder.

"Now come, help me get him on his feet."

Though Thor wasn't sure if he agreed with this masked woman's proposal, a sudden moan immediately caught his attention. He looked down to see that his brother's eyes were open again. In that moment, he realized that if there was ever a time that he was so desperate for help, that time was now.

Resting his hand on Loki's other shoulder, Thor leaned down slightly and said, "Loki, speak to me brother. Can you stand?"

Loki bit his lip and gave a slight sigh, but he nodded. "I, I'll try," he replied.

Aska and Thor nodded back. Trying to be as gentle as possible, the two took hold of Loki on both sides, and steadily raised him up, while he kept his eyes shut and gritted his teeth in an attempt to keep from crying out again and worrying them any further.

Once he was on his feet, Aska hurried over to his left side. Thor wrapped Loki's good arm around her shoulder, where she held it in place while her other arm held the rest of his person, letting his still warm body – evidenced by the steam that emanated from his heavy breaths – lean on her. Though he was a bit taller than her, she held him steadily enough.

"Your Highness," she then said in a caring but stern tone. Loki turned his head to her, letting his soft, vulnerable, green eyes meet her own icy blue ones. So troubled did Aska feel by his distressing expression, that she shook her head slightly to remind herself what she was going to say.

"Listen to me," she continued in the same voice, "I'm taking you back to Asgard, but I need you to stay awake for as long as you can. Understand?"

Loki nodded slightly. "Very well," he managed to reply.

Suddenly, Aska heard a sound that made her heart sink dramatically. The sound of cracking ice immediately made her head turn, and her eyes widened with renewed worry when she beheld another statue in the same shape as the monster she had just slain begin to move and break, its pair of red eyes focused intensely, murderously, on her.

"Go!" Thor then shouted as he took up his hammer, "Go! Now!"

But Aska was off before he finished his order. With Loki at her side, the two hurried as fast as they could from the ugliest of scenes that was about to literally burst onto the sight. The two put their highest efforts at what they had promised the other – Loki tried his hardest to stay awake despite the pain that continued to torment him, while Aska, barely able even to breathe, ran as fast as her legs could carry her, and the prince, back the way she came.

As she followed the tracks she'd left earlier, Aska quickly realized that running while holding onto a grown man was not as easy as she'd first thought. With every step she took, sweat danced down both of her now red cheeks. But she couldn't turn back now. She couldn't even allow the thought to enter her mind. No matter what happened, no matter what other threats she might encounter, she was going to get the prince back to their realm, even if it killed her.

Before long, she wished she hadn't allowed herself to think that either. As soon as she and Loki were halfway down the path, the ground began to shake slightly. Fearing what she had the feeling would happen, Aska reluctantly turned her head around to see a great, menacing beast similar to the one she had just fought – if not bigger – racing after her and the prince, its too-sharp claws digging into the snow with every stride. But what frightened her even more was a sight she had seen before. There was a rider atop this monster as well, and it didn't take long for Aska to recognize her as the very same rider who was on the previous one. Even though they were still far away from each other, their eyes met. The Jotun woman's eyes seemed so mad with worry that Aska quickly turned her head around. But it could not prevent the shiver that then traveled up her spine the moment she heard her bellowing, angry voice.

"The son of Odin is mine!"

For a brief moment, Aska felt herself go into a panic, wondering if they would make it back safely at all. But suddenly, when she heard Loki moan again, and saw that he was now ashen-white and might be close to passing out, a resolute fire rose within her, one that refused to be quenched, even by a desire to think of any other outcome than the one she originally imagined.

"Your Highness!" she shouted between breaths, "Run faster!"

Loki showed his gritted teeth, showing the sheer effort it took to take step after step. "I don't know if I can!" he replied.

Hearing him say that, the determined fire for a short second turned into one of anger. "I know you can't but you've got to!" she almost shouted at him. Indeed, she herself was somewhat surprised at the manner in which she spoke those words, and to a prince of Asgard.

Apparently though, having heard the dire urgency in her voice, if not the heat of frustration, Loki bit his lip, and did as she said to the absolute best of his ability. For a while, Aska began to wonder if she shouldn't have ordered him to run faster and harder. What kind of a toll could it take on him?

But before she could think about it any further, Aska's thoughts instantly turned to the pathway ahead of her, and just as quickly she found a whole new reason to worry. Right before her eyes, whether by the force of the beast's strides or some other force of nature, the ground was beginning to split into two, rather quickly. Were they to meet their end here? Falling into the abyss of Jotunheim? To her renewed unease, she wasn't the only one who noticed.

"The ground!" Loki managed to say, "It's breaking apart!"

Though the worry in his voice matched her own, Aska still couldn't allow herself to even think about giving up. Even as they ran toward it, she calculated an estimated distance of the horizontal crack, and soon came to a conclusion that admittedly made even her skin crawl, without the aid of the still cold air around her.

"Your Highness!" she said, "When I say 'now,' you and I are going to jump!"

"Will we make it?" he asked.

"We've got to try!" Aska replied, though the doubt that they might not still lingered in the back of her mind.

But ruling out the possibility that they would, Aska and Loki continued to run toward the gap, until they were just a few yards away from it. Both prepared themselves physically and mentally, knowing that the only acceptable way out would be to land safely on the other side.

Narrowing her eyes as though pinpointing a target, Aska began to count. "Ready? One, two, three … NOW!"

Once the reached the edge of the opening, both vigilante maiden and prince of Asgard leaped forward with the greatest force they could muster. In only a few seconds that seemed like years, they flew across the gap blocking their way back home. To her great and immediate distress, Aska let go of Loki as they were making their way across. With flailing arms, and opened mouths but silent screams, both feared they would never touch the ground again, doomed to fall forever into the unknown.

But before either knew it, they landed in a heap of snow on the ground that greeted them. Remembering that her mission wasn't over, Aska quickly raised her head, thankful that she still had clear vision, and looked desperately around for Loki. Her eyes widened when she saw a black shadow with red snow surrounding him. Fearing the worst, Aska hastily raised herself up and hurried as fast as she could over to him. Gently, but urgently, she pulled him onto his back. Though his eyes were closed, she felt strangely elated to hear a moan escape his lips. He was still alive.

Taking his left arm, she wrapped it around her shoulder again, and pulled him back up as fast as she could with her other arm – and gritted teeth. "Come Highness," she implored him, "It's not much further, I promise."

Loki gave another slight moan in response, but before Aska could say anything more encouraging, she realized there was no time to do so, as she heard the monster – and the accursed Jotun woman – on the other side, but still chasing after them. All she could do was run away, hoping Loki would do the same, run away down the rest of the hopefully short pathway to the safe haven they both called home.

Fortunately, the rest of the road from here on out was short. Aska continued to follow the still fresh footprints in the snow, wishing as hard as she could that she were at the ledge where she entered the realm. As her heart continued to beat hard to accommodate the speed and strength with which she ran, and she felt the ground shake and heard further the most malignant of beasts following their trail, Aska began to wonder if they would ever reach the end of this tormenting journey, when her eyes finally set sight on the ledge she immediately recognized.

Running as if her life depended on it, Aska headed straight for it, her eyes intensely focused on nothing else until she and Loki finally stood on it. Holding firmly onto him, Aska then raised her head, and cried out in a desperate voice, "Heimdall! Please! Get us back to Asgard!"

Suddenly, a sound that nearly made her heart stop reached her ears. Aska looked instantly to see that the great, roaring monster, and the female Giant still riding atop it, were both rushing right at them. Searching for any possible escape, she quickly looked around, but all around them stood only the steepest of drops, and the only way to go was forward, in the direction of the ones who intended to either murder them or eat them alive. Biting her lip, and wanting to get out of this death-trap as fast as possible, Aska called out in a voice even more desperate than before, "Heimdall!"

Gritting her teeth again, she shut her eyes and awaited the fate she and Loki somehow managed to elude just now. Would they be able to again? Aska only held tightly onto the injured prince, and soon, she felt both of them begin to float off the ground. Not knowing whether or not they were dead, she kept her eyes closed tightly, trying to ignore the way her head – or rather, her world – seemed to spin as though the sheer madness of panic had gained an incarnation.

She soon realized that she had landed on solid ground. Still, Aska kept her eyes closed, until the need to know where she was implored her to open them again. The moment she did, she immediately gasped in disbelief when she saw that she was back in the golden teleportation dome, and Loki was still at her side. She almost wanted to laugh that they had twice defied death, but seeing just how much in need of medical attention his Highness was prevented her from doing so. Indeed, here he looked even more pale and weak than he did before.

There was no time to waste. After she hoisted both herself and Loki on each other's feet, Aska noticed that Heimdall was standing on the dais, holding his staff firmly in place. Putting aside her previous feelings of intimidation set upon her in his presence, she did not speak, but instead nodded her head to the outside in an attempt to get Heimdall to follow her. Nearly dragging Loki across the room toward the doorway that led to the outside, she did not turn her head as she heard Heimdall's footsteps behind them.

"The prince has been injured," he realized in a voice that revealed a faint hint of shock.

"Yes," Aska nodded as they finally made it outside. The black, haunting sky of the night still hung over the realm, but the great palace where Odin, king of Asgard, presided was still lit for all to see. Aska couldn't allow herself to be relieved for long. If she couldn't get his Highness there in time … she didn't even want to think about the consequences, knowing only that they'd be too heavy to bear.

She then turned around and implored Heimdall, "Please, help me get him on my horse!"

Heimdall nodded, held out his arms, and Aska quickly transferred Loki to his hold before mounting Dagny as fast as she could. Heimdall then lifted Loki onto the pale horse's back right behind her. Fortunately, Loki didn't seem to have completely lost his senses. To Aska's relief, he seemed to understand the gravity of the situation, as he wrapped his arms around her waist while she quickly took the reins in her hands. But once Aska looked at Heimdall again, her relief, like before, proved to be short-lived.

With a firmness in his eyes, as well as his voice, the great guardian warned her, "There is still time, but you must not waste it."

Aska nodded quickly. "I won't, thank you." Then, with her eyes set on her destination, which seemed so near and yet so far away, she grabbed a handful of the pale mare's mane gave her a slight kick to the flanks before urging her on. "Run Dagny, run!"

In no time, as if she'd sensed the seriousness of the great mission before her, Dagny neighed and immediately broke into a gallop, carrying both her mistress and the prince behind her across the Bifröst Bridge, and toward the magnificent golden fortress of a home that awaited them.

_Your Highness, please, hold on_, Aska silently begged him.

As she leaned forward in the saddle, with Loki leaning on her, and the lights of every color imaginable shining beneath her, Aska's gaze remained fiercely locked on her destination, which seemed so close yet so far away. She made a clicking noise with her tongue, signaling to Dagny to go faster. Her horse's hooves clattered against the bridge as she seemed to race effortlessly across it, matching the incessant beat of Aska's heart against her chest. Never did she look away or even flinch.

Once she was halfway across the bridge, Aska ignored the feeling of Loki's blood seeping onto her back. She couldn't allow anything to distract her. Yet, as she got closer to the palace, a new, strange, ominous feeling began to make itself known, its presence feeling like a snake crawling up her back. Aska wasn't sure at first if it was the realization of the palace looking even more massive than she first thought, the fact that she was heading toward the place where she would most likely be arrested, or something else. Before long though, something seemed to awake within her, like she was now riding into a dream, even though she was awake. What was this most bizarre of sensations?

Suddenly, almost before she knew it, she found that she was only a few yards away from where the bridge began. In front of the building of gold that towered above her stood four guards, two standing on either side of a set of stairs leading to a massive double-door entrance, and two standing on either side of those doors. Though the two at the bottom of the stairs seemed already to be alarmed at the sight heading toward them, Aska cried out in a desperate plea, "Someone, help me!"

"Good heavens!" the guard on her right shouted as he ran toward her. Aska quickly slowed her horse to a stop, and just in time. Just as the guard hurried over to them, Loki seemed to completely lose consciousness. He gave a groan and began to slip off of Dagny's back, and would have hit the ground were the guard not there to catch him. Aska hastily dismounted and rushed over to be at his side again, determined not to leave him.

"He's hurt, and needs immediate attention!" she managed to say, almost breathless at what she had just endured.

"Help me get him inside," the guard said. Aska nodded and wrapped Loki's arm around her shoulder while the guard wrapped his other arm around his. The two then together headed as fast as they could up the stairs, accompanied by the guard who once stood at the left, his stunned face meeting theirs.

"What happened?!" he asked, "I thought he was in Jotunheim!"

"Tell the doctors to ready the healing room now!" the first guard ordered, "His Highness is injured!"

They reached the top of the stairs, and without a word the guards at the entrance quickly opened the two large doors for them, allowing Aska and the two guards in. Once they were inside, the second guard hastily parted ways with Aska and the guard with her, rushing as fast as he could down the long hallway in the direction of the healing room to alert the physicians, while Aska and the first guard continued to carry Loki through another hallway, ignoring the shocked stares from other guards and maids that greeted them along the way.

As she made her way with Loki and the guard helping her through the biggest hallways she'd ever traveled through, Aska did her absolute best to remain calm, not knowing whether she should let herself feel relief again. How badly she wanted this mission to end. It seemed she had never been on a longer one in her life. But before she could dwell on that any further, a cloud of eccentricity much like the strange feeling of before seemed to surround her. As if subconsciously reacting to it, Aska's eyes began to wander as she moved, taking in the sights of all the grand halls she entered and exited. Suddenly, after she passed a number of torches that hung on the left and right walls, it felt like a lone spark within her was somehow rekindled after being held in the darkness of winter for far too long. Something felt strange about all of this, something, oddly, familiar, and it troubled her to the point that she felt her grip on Loki loosen slightly, until she regained her hold on him.

Before long though, Aska and the guard arrived in the last place she expected to visit in the palace. It appeared to be the largest room in it. A massive, wooden chandelier with lit candles hung from the ceiling high above it, casting a golden glow on everything their light touched. The pairs of guards who stood at the three entrances all gasped, but it was two others that immediately caught Aska's attention. She and the guard beside her slowed down, and she was about to ask why, when her eyes lifted to behold two people whom she highly revered, yet never got the privilege to meet. Odin, the mighty king of Asgard, and his queen, Frigga, stood together on the dais raised in the back of the room. Though she'd never met them before, Aska immediately knew who they were, and she knew not whether to flee in fear, or curtsy in respect. But the attentions of both monarchs were focused solely on their wounded son.

"LOKI!" Frigga cried out. She then became pale-faced, and Aska feared she might faint, but Odin quickly took hold of her to steady her, before turning his one eye back on the sight before him.

"What's the meaning of this?!" he demanded.

"Do please forgive us, your Majesties," the guard beside Aska tried to say as calmly as possible, "but this is one of the faster ways to the healing room."

But before either of them could try to carry Loki out the room and travel further into the palace, the doors to the left were quickly opened, and through them came the guard who had been ordered to alert the physicians, as well as two men in white doctor's robes carrying a stretcher on either side.

"Here they are!" the guard pointed out Aska and the one next to her. Everything that happened next went by so fast that Aska could barely breathe. After letting the stretcher down, with trained hands, the doctors took hold of the unconscious prince and laid him carefully on it. One of them then knelt down and pressed two gloved fingers at the top of Loki's neck, searching for any sign of life.

"This isn't good," he declared, "His pulse is rapid." As he then began to examine Loki further, the other doctor turned to Aska and the guard who had helped her, a concerned and questioning look on his face.

"How did this happen?" he asked.

Deciding to see her mission through to the very end, Aska quickly answered him. "He got hit with a wave of ice while fighting in Jotunheim," she replied.

"Wait," the doctor held his hand up, "How do you know about this? Who are you?"

In that moment, deciding neither to flee nor curtsy, Aska, despite the wild mixture of feeling that ran through her, stood tall in front of everyone there. "I am the Purple Phantom, protectoress of Asgard," she replied, "And as for my knowledge of his Highness's journey there…"

She then turned to the king and queen of Asgard themselves, determined to remain strong, even as she now stood in front of the ones who could call for her arrest at this very moment. "I confess to both of your Majesties," she said, "that I did follow your sons and your best warriors to Jotunheim. I assumed them to be looking for the same answers I was. But I promise you both, I meant none of them any harm."

"Then where are the rest?" Odin then asked, "Or do you know?"

Aska nodded in answer to his second question before answering his first. "I assume they're still in Jotunheim," she replied, "They distracted the Frost Giants so his Highness and I could escape."

"You mean to say you brought him back here by yourself?" the doctor beside her asked incredulously.

"Yes," Aska nodded without facing him, keeping her unflinching gaze instead on Odin and Frigga, "And it was a great honor to do so."

"We need to get his Highness in now, before he goes into shock!" the other doctor suddenly said.

"Right!" the first doctor replied. As quickly as they had come in previously, the two grabbed both ends of the stretcher, and Aska watched with unblinking eyes and an open mouth as the injured prince, whom she somehow managed to rescue, who seemed to almost draw her to him, disappeared into the hallway, taking with him his almost magnetic presence.

Meanwhile, Frigga did not know at first what to do, or even think. As a queen, she had to remain calm in such circumstances, but as a mother, every bit of her body seemed to ache in the need for her son to be well. Trying to focus her attention on something else, she found that she owed nothing but her deepest thanks to this masked vigilante woman, who acted outside the law, yet risked her life to save Loki's. If her husband was not going to do something about this, then she would.

Trying to stand tall, Frigga gently took Odin by the wrist, and pulled him aside. Immediately, his one eye met her own two, wanting to know what was on her mind.

"Dearest," Frigga said, "you may not like what I am about to say, but I am afraid I can say nothing else."

"Yes?" Odin asked as he leaned in a bit.

"This woman may not be one of your warriors," Frigga continued, "but you can clearly see she did everything she could to see Loki home safely. I did not detect anything deceitful about her when she spoke. If she truly means our children and the Warriors Three no harm, and found it an honor to help Loki in his hour of need, perhaps you could make her one of your warriors. If this deed does not make her deserving, then I do not know what can."

For a moment, Odin did not answer, but his frown remained on his face. "My dear," he said, "you may see no fault in her, but how can I trust a woman who sees it necessary to hide herself from the realm she claims to protect?"

"Will you not even consider it?" his wife asked, a hint of frustration in her tone of voice.

Odin sighed. "I will, for your sake," he tried to appease her, "But as king, I cannot let any threat, no matter how small, to run about freely in this realm."

This time, Frigga herself sighed. Though she deeply loved her husband, sometimes he could be frustratingly stubborn. But then, when she turned to look again at the warrior woman who had saved their son, her eyes widened at the sight she beheld.

"She's gone!" she exclaimed.

"What?" Odin asked. He turned and looked all around the room for the woman in purple, but nothing greeted his limited sight. In an attempt to finally hem her in, the mighty king of Asgard immediately called out orders. "Do not let her leave the palace!"

But not long after he commanded his men to do so, the Purple Phantom had managed to escape his grasp, after traveling through what at first seemed like an endless maze of halls, yet one she found she could easily move through. Soon, she was once again on her pale horse, and reluctantly galloping away from the palace. Reluctantly, because despite the threat of capture she felt when near his father, the woman who appeared to travel like a free shadow could not find herself to feel the same way toward his son whom she just helped. But whether or not she might come across him again, as she admittedly hoped she would, all she could focus on now was returning home. And yet, she could not resist reining her horse to a halt and letting her rear and give a victorious neigh.

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_Reviews would be appreciated._


	6. Just That Girl

_*A/N: "Just That Girl" by Drew Seeley. Don't much care for the movie, but the song is pretty catchy! :)_

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**Not Your Average Cinderella**

Chapter 5 – Just That Girl*

Loki did not know where he was, nor how he got where he was. All he knew, at least from what he could see, was that he seemed to be in one of the most lovely forests he'd ever seen. Surrounding him were trees that stood in all directions and seemed to tower over him, their leaves the color of the purest emeralds, and their trunks black like ebony. They seemed strong enough to be nearly impossible to move, and yet, at the same time, frail enough to break into pieces at the slightest touch. Nearly straining to try and see past the canopies of leaves, he could make out what appeared to be the sky, perhaps even more black than the wood of the trees, yet decorated across with countless, glittering, silver stars, looking as though they might shower him with their favored light at any moment. Looking down, he saw that he was standing amid tall grass stretching nearly to his knees, the same color, it seemed, as the leaves of the trees above him. And standing just above the tips of the blades of the grass was a pale gray mist, so sensitive to touch that when Loki dipped his hand into it, it broke into a swirl much like water would break into ripples.

Suddenly, a pale sight caught his eye. Much to his intrigue, he saw what appeared to be a white, four-legged silhouette. Feeling almost beckoned by it, but not without caution, Loki moved one foot, then another. The pale shadow didn't move. Now even more curious, Loki moved slightly faster toward it, trying to remain as quiet as possible, until he finally beheld, with wide eyes, a great white stag standing in the middle of the greenest meadow he'd ever seen. The stag's fur was the color of the purest snow, his large pair of antlers looked as though they were made of ivory. He stood still, tall, and proud, like the symbol of male virility he was. But his large eyes, which stared unblinkingly at Loki, were as black as the night sky above him, yet seemed most agreeable, almost friendly.

Trying to smile, yet still remaining slow as he approached, Loki even more slowly reached out his hand as he got closer. "Hello there," he said, his tone of voice soft. Still, the stag did not flee, and Loki finally rested his hand on the stag's muzzle, and even began to scratch it as though it were a horse's. In fact, he couldn't help but chuckle at how tame this wild-looking animal was.

Just then, though, the stag raised his head, turned around, and hastened away from the startled prince. "Wait!" he called out, but the stag didn't stop. Eager to know where the deer was going, for reasons he couldn't identify, Loki began to follow the stag across the field, keeping his eyes on him. Even as he disappeared into the dense, black forest surrounding the meadow, Loki continued to chase after him, immersing himself in the darkness from which he'd previously wanted to escape.

Maneuvering between the towering trees, the leaves of which ruffling as he ran past them, Loki continued to search for the elusive stag, yet also remained alert, on the look-out for anything even remotely threatening. Eventually though, after what now seemed to be an endless pursuit, he laid eyes once again on the majestic animal, and a smile instantly formed on his lips. Repeating his actions of earlier, he took only two steps toward the deer before stopping, wondering if he should try to touch him again. Like before though, the stag did not run off, and his dark eyes, which once again were locked on Loki's, still seemed amiable.

But before Loki could reach out his hand again, the stag lifted his head to the left, almost as if to say, "Follow me," before taking off away from the prince again. Deciding to believe what he'd thought to be a signal to him, Loki went on the stag's path, following him deeper into the woods.

It wasn't long before Loki heard the faint sound of what seemed to be lively, feminine laughter. Immediately after, another sound reached his ears, that of splashing, running waters. Where was this stag taking him? Could it even be possible that he was being led into a trap? So far, he had sensed nothing sinister about this animal, yet Loki kept his guard up. He would not be easily surprised should circumstances turn unfavorable.

However, the sounds of both the water and the laughter grew louder the closer he got, until the stag finally stopped in front of him. Loki quickly rushed up to his side, curious to see where he had led him. What he saw almost immediately captivated him. Before him was a green meadow much like the one he first saw, sloping downward a few feet away. At the end of the small hill sat what appeared to be a spring, with a high waterfall and a low waterfall beside it descending into a medium-sized pond, the waters sparkling like the stars in a pool of pale blue. And sitting on the large stone in front of it was a woman so ethereal, Loki thought at first that she was a ghost. She sat almost as still as a statue, holding her knees to her chest. Her skin was pale, the only thing she wore was an unadorned, strapless, white dress which hugged her figure and stretched to her ankles, and her long hair, which seemed to be made of light gold interwoven with silver, fell down her back in waves.

Yet for all of her beauty that beheld him, her face was turned away from him. At first, Loki didn't know what to do, or think, so hesitant he was to approach her. "Hello?" he called, "Who's there?" She didn't turn around, only laughed again, and this time, despite his previous caution, Loki couldn't help but let a smile cross his face. Though he may have been reluctant to do so at first, one step at a time, he began making his way across the field then down the slope toward her, becoming more fascinated with every stride, until he finally stood beside her. Once he was, though the woman's mystical presence was as strong as ever, her face was still hidden to him.

Loki opened his mouth to speak to her, but found that he could not, as right then, the woman slowly turned her head around, until he finally beheld her face, or what he could see of it. It was finely formed, with lips that curled into a smile, but across her face – to his silent dismay – was a mask the same color as her dress, etched with small diamonds and woven silver. Yet he saw that her eyes were the color of the pale water beneath her, and she began to flutter her lashes at him, whether mockingly or flirtatiously, he did not know.

"Who are you?" he asked once he found his voice, "What's your name?"

She didn't reply, at least in words. Instead, she put her hands to her mouth, and laughed again. This time, Loki frowned. Although he did feel rather drawn to this woman, he had the feeling that she was playing cat-and-mouse with him. And yet, here he was sitting next to her. Unless she stood up and ran off like the deer he'd followed earlier, there was really nothing stopping him from finding out whose face lay behind this disguise. Without another word from either of them, Loki slowly raised his hands to the woman's mask. Interestingly enough, she did not try to flee from him, she didn't even flinch. She just stared at him with eyes as unblinking as those of the stag's. His curiosity now at its height, but not without slight confusion, Loki gave a small sigh to rid himself of it, and then, looking straight at the woman's eyes, pulled off the mask.

But before he could see her face, something touched his forehead, something wet and warm. Loki's vision then plunged into darkness, and he let out a disturbed gasp. Realizing then that his eyes were closed, he quickly opened them. And the face that greeted him was not the face of the woman he'd just met, but of another whom he was trying so hard to avoid, yet seemed to fail to do so at this moment. It was the Lady Idunn, and she was sitting next to him on what he saw to be his bed. Loki's head was propped against his pillow, and here the lady was, dabbing a wet cloth gently on his forehead. She was wearing a white nurse's dress, her long black hair fell in two braids down her chest. She was smiling softly, and her pale blue eyes were now – as usual – blinking several times at him.

"Good morning, your Highness," she said in a voice so sweet it would rival that of the purest honey, "Are you feeling any better?"

Though he knew she was trying to be nice, Loki kept frowning, trying to hide his bitter disappointment that his vision was just a dream. But trying to make sense of her second question, he slowly moved to a slight sitting position in his bed, and found that he was wearing his usual night tunic. And inside it, around his right shoulder were wrapped several bandages, slightly bloody from the wound he now remembered receiving. Though the near constant pain was now gone, he winced as he felt a slight shot of it travel through his shoulder. Idunn immediately laid a hand on him, preventing him from moving anymore.

She shook her head at him. "The doctors don't want you moving around too much," she said, "At least not for a few days. You really gave us all quite a scare."

Loki couldn't help but sigh as he rested against the pillow again. How was he going to handle not being active for three or four days? And with the last woman he wanted to be near as his nurse? He wished he could simply sink into the folds of his bed, but it appeared that Idunn would keep even that from happening should he have been able to. She put the wet cloth aside and then stood up from her seat, walking slowly around the room, keeping her wide eyes on him.

"You know," she said as she stopped in front of his bed, her voice still smooth, "I heard that there were, _complications_, regarding our engagement. So much so that they could, prevent it from going through."

Loki only frowned at her as she spoke, wondering why she had to bring this of all things up at the most inappropriate of times. But another question alarmed him even more. "Who told you about that?" he asked, giving voice to it.

Idunn gave him a smirk before replying, "Forgive me, your Highness, but I'm not deaf. If I hear of anything concerning me, or _us_, don't you think you'd want me to hear it?"

_I'd rather not_, Loki thought, trying not to bite his lip. He didn't even try to wish that she'd leave him alone, knowing she would do just the opposite.

A sigh escaped Idunn's lips as she continued walking, heading to the right side of his bed. "You would not believe how worried I was when I heard about your injury last night, after you were brought in by the Purple…Ghost, is it?"

"The Purple Phantom," Loki corrected her as soon as he was able, asking silently, despite her previous claim, how she'd heard about that too.

"Ah," Idunn nodded, "I see." To Loki's dismay, which he hoped she wouldn't see, she sat down on his right side next to him, and continued to speak in the syrupy tone of voice she seemed to delight in using at his expense. "Most mysterious woman she was. She left almost immediately, almost like a, spirit." Chuckling at her own joke, she raised her finger, and then, in a way that nearly made Loki leap out of his skin, began slowly stroking the side of his face with it.

"At least she brought you in," she said, eyebrows raised while her eyes underneath remained focused on him, "before the rest of you could be…marred."

Loki tried to remain as still as possible, which was easy to do lying in a bed, and yet at the same time, not easy at all, since there was nowhere for him to go. He attempted to swallow his uneasiness as he thought of what to do to make this woman leave, until he thought of something so simple he wondered how he overlooked it.

"Idunn," he said in the most polite tone of voice he could muster, "if you don't mind, for now, I'd like to have some privacy."

Idunn raised her eyebrows again, this time as if in surprise. She at last pulled her finger back away from Loki, and, as he'd hoped, also stood up from the bed. Almost immediately changing her manner, she kept both hands in front of her, and nodded at him. "Of course," she said with a soft smile, "Anything to please you, your Highness."

Loki watched as she then walked across his room, and toward the door, where she rested her hand on the handle before saying, "And you know, all you have to do is call if you need, _anything_." She said that last word almost as if it were a sentence of its own. And though she kept her face turned from him, Loki could almost swear that he saw her licking her lips for a brief second. Before he could shudder at the sight, Idunn turned the handle, opened the door, and finally left Loki in solitary peace, letting him breath out an immediate sigh of relief. Now he could focus on matters that he actually wanted to focus on.

Seeing the golden light of day seeping into the room from the window on his right, and deciding to ignore the doctors' orders, for now at least, Loki slowly climbed out of his bed, wincing again at the slight pain that shot through his shoulder. After rubbing his eyes, he walked to the open window, and rested his elbows on the golden railing as he looked out at the magnificent realm of Asgard stretching out in all directions. The events of yesterday morning felt so far away, yet, as for the events of last night, it was as though they'd happened only seconds ago.

It wasn't long though, before Loki's memory brought him back to that most haunting of dreams. How beautiful that masked woman at the spring seemed, yet how odd she acted. Suddenly, Loki's mouth fell open as another question was raised. Could that woman in his dream have had anything to do with the Purple Phantom? His mother did sometimes say that dreams were the mind's way of categorizing things. But how could he possibly categorize how he felt about this masked woman? He knew that, being a vigilante, she was worthy of arrest. And yet, he couldn't bring to mind another woman who seemed to draw him so easily to her, who made him feel so strange and happy, indeed, even enchanted, at the same time.

Soon, Loki found himself entertaining yet another prospect. Was it possible that he'd seen her true face before? He recalled the woman's pale blue eyes he saw in his dream, and before long, he let out a slight gasp as he realized that they did seem familiar. It was almost as if a painful part of his past he wanted so badly, and even managed to forget, had been brought into light, and this time, brought no pain with it. Yet for all his hope, Loki still didn't know if it was true. What was it that made him feel the way he did about her? Her bravery and skill in battle? Her possible beauty behind her mask? The mystery she posed to him? Or even all three?

So lost was he in his thoughts, that Loki nearly jumped when he suddenly heard a series of knocks on the door. He quickly turned to see Idunn standing in the entrance, holding one of the doors open, her eyes once again focused on him as she spoke.

"Do pardon me, Highness," she said, "but your family is here to see you."

Despite the way she looked at him, Loki raised his eyebrows with interest, as he was just now thinking of inviting his family in. "Thank you Idunn," he said, before immediately feeling odd that he had just addressed those words to her, "Bring them in."

Idunn nodded a slow nod, her lips curling into a snake-like smile, which made whatever one Loki had fade into a frown, before she left the room. For a moment, Loki's smile returned, until in walked his father, mother, and brother, all clearly eager to see him, all clearly happy to see him alive and well. Now that they were here, could he really tell them about the ideas forming in his mind regarding this woman?

One at a time they all greeted him. "Are you faring well my son?" Odin asked, his face showing rather great concern. Loki smiled to try and bolster his confidence. "Well I'm on the road to recovery," he replied.

"Loki!" Frigga then exclaimed as she rushed up to him, both arms open, "My dear young one!" Rather than embrace him, which she knew would hurt him further, she instead took hold of both his arms and kissed him on both cheeks. Then, looking him sternly in the eyes, she asked her son, "Are you following the doctors' orders?"

Before Loki could reply, Thor let out a hearty laugh. "For goodness sake, he's not a child anymore Mother!" he exclaimed. Frigga frowned at him, but Thor ignored her as he strode over to Loki, a smile on his face.

"And I assume you're doing well, brother?" he asked as he rested his hand on Loki's good shoulder. Seeing the smile on his face with which he laughed just now, Loki couldn't help but return it. "I admit I've been better," he replied, "But for now, yes, I suppose I'm doing well."

Thor nodded, and then let his hand leave his brother's shoulder, allowing Loki to muster up all his courage and stand straight in front of his family. Whether they, and he, liked it or not, he was going to tell them of his plans he'd thought up, plans regarding the future for him and the woman who seemed to entrance him so.

"I'm glad you all came," Loki said politely, "I've actually been meaning to speak to you."

Odin raised his eyebrows with interest. "About what?" he asked.

Loki again swallowed his uneasiness like before, almost forcing himself to reply. "About my, marital prospects."

As he thought he would, Odin rolled his eye and then closed it as he sighed. But Loki stopped him before he could do anything else. "Before you dismiss me," he said, "I think I've found a potential bride besides Idunn."

This statement renewed his father's interest. "Really?" he asked, "And who might that be?"

This question quickly made Loki's nervous state return. "Therein lies the problem," he frowned, "You might not like my choice."

Odin almost immediately brushed aside what his son said, so great was his relief that they were seeing eye-to-eye on this issue. "Tell us anyway," he said, "We might be surprised."

_Oh you will be_, Loki thought humorlessly. Nonetheless, he sighed and said, "Very well." Then, before he could even think of stopping himself, he said, "My choice is, the Purple Phantom."

Instantly, as he expected the eyes of all of his family widened, making Loki look away slightly. Even so, he just as quickly faced them again. This was his choice, and none of them could make him accept another.

"Do you seriously mean that Loki?" Odin asked, "Is this a joke?"

"I'm afraid not Father," Loki replied, remaining respectful.

"But of all the eligible maidens in the realm, why would you choose her?" Odin asked, his voice now raised, "You don't even know if she _is_ eligible!"

Loki silently, and reluctantly, admitted that there was truth to that sentiment. Even so, the nagging doubt – or rather, hope – in his mind, remained. "If she is not," he then said, "then please explain how she has all this time to slay Frost Giants. How she had the time to help, me."

With that last word, Loki unwittingly found himself staring into space as he recalled the aptly named specter of the night before, displaying her bravery, boldness, and beauty, all in one. And indeed, it wasn't long before Thor noticed what he knew was going on.

"Oh no," he said, not knowing whether to smile or frown, "I know that look."

When Loki then turned to him, eyebrows raised in question, Thor couldn't help but give a laugh less hearty than before. "I don't believe this!" he exclaimed before announcing as if to the world, "You've _fallen in love_ with the masked woman!"

At that, Loki's eyes widened, marveling at an explanation so simple and yet so complicated. Of course, he'd heard of the concept of falling in love before in most of the stories he'd heard growing up. But could that be what he was experiencing right now? And toward this woman? Was this what it felt like? So natural and yet so unnatural at the same time? He couldn't think of another emotion that made him feel so bizarre and yet so, entranced.

Once he found his voice again, he surprised himself when he spoke with such a bold tone of voice. "Well, if that's what it's called, then, yes, perhaps I am in love with her."

"But you know almost nothing about her!" Thor reminded him. But before he could say anything else, Frigga took him by the wrist.

"Now Thor," she said in a stern, motherly voice, "Love is a beautiful thing when it is allowed to blossom." The frown remained on his face, which unfortunately caused one to form on her own. She looked at her other son, and couldn't help but not. "He is right, though, Loki," she said, "You don't know that much about her."

"Well I do know that she saved my life!" Loki then said, becoming rather frustrated, "You should have seen her in Jotunheim, when she killed the beast that would have otherwise killed me! Admit it, I wouldn't be here now if it weren't for her!"

"But do you have any idea of _who_ she could be?" Odin then asked.

Loki raised his eyebrows, but his agitated frown did not flee. "Believe or not, I do," he replied.

Thor widened his eyes in rather unexpected curiosity. "Really?" he asked, "Well then, by all means, humor us."

Now came a task even harder than the one before, one that would require not only Loki, but the rest of his family, to delve into those deep, seldom-visited parts of their minds that they would otherwise not want to explore. But the truth needed to be told, no matter what bitter memories it would evoke. Letting out a sigh, in an attempt to put his nerves to rest, Loki then forced himself to reply.

"Actually, I believe she might possibly be…Sigyn."

Silence immediately ensued. Not one word came from anyone's mouth, not even a gasp. Loki immediately began to wonder if he should have brought this up at all. And yet, he was completely honest about his suspicions when he voiced them.

Lady Sigyn was Loki's original betrothed, long before Idunn entered the minds of either of his parents. Her father was Forseti the Just, one of the most highly-esteemed judges of Odin's court. Her mother was Lady Eira the Merciful, one of their most respected physicians, renowned for her beauty as well as her skill in medicine. Though they'd seen each other several times before, Loki and Sigyn didn't formally meet until their betrothal was publically announced at his coming-of-age celebration, when Loki was eighteen, and Sigyn was still a child of ten years. Of course, they wouldn't have married until she too came of age.

But the meeting itself, no matter how much Loki could or would ever try to forget it, it would always remain as fresh in his memory as if it had happened only the day before. They had approached each other alone as soon as they were introduced to their future spouses, in front of the rest of the court. Sigyn wore a festive, white dress, and a kindly expression. She had even offered him a "present" in the form of a kiss on his cheek, which everyone immediately delighted in. At the time, though, Loki could barely contemplate how this impish-seeming girl eight years his junior could one day be his wife.

And yet, after three years during which they began to become better acquainted with one another, by the time she was thirteen, not only did she have a blossoming beauty, but Loki couldn't help but appreciate her lively and, indeed, spirited nature. How easily she had made him laugh, made him smile on a gloomy day, encourage him to enjoy life. But then, then came the day when he received news that her home had been burned to the ground by a group of Jotuns. The bodies of her parents were recovered shortly thereafter, however, her remains had never been found. Although Loki had since been hopeful, its fire had long been kept low and dim. But now…?

Right then, the silence was broken by Thor's incredulous exclamation. "Sigyn? You don't mean _that_ Sigyn?"

Trying to smile in an attempt to persuade his brother to see it his way, Loki replied with a question of his own. "Why not?"

"Loki, you can't be serious!" Thor retorted, "The girl died years ago!"

"It was never proven!" Loki reminded him, "Her body was never discovered. Think, you've seen her too. She looks the correct age, with a similar physicality. She was wearing the family colors: purple and gold!"

"Then why does she wear a mask?" Thor suddenly asked, "If it is her, why would she hide herself?"

"Perhaps to avoid the Frost Giants?" Loki suggested, "If they knew she was alive, they'd more than likely stop at nothing to destroy her."

"But Loki!" Odin then spoke up, "What if it isn't her? What would you do then?"

For a moment, Loki widened his eyes. He had forgotten to remind himself not to let his fire of hope burn too brightly. Even so, the mystifying impression the woman in the mask left on him remained, and he was going to make sure the people he loved most knew it. "Well, even if it's not her," he then said, "I will marry her nonetheless."

Still, when he looked at his frowning father again, Loki couldn't help but return it, and rather frustratingly. "Father, why can we not compromise?" Loki asked, "If you wish so badly for me to marry, then I'm afraid you're going to have to agree with my choice, or I will not marry at all!"

Odin opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Frigga quickly took his arm in hers. She looked at him with rather steely eyes. "Odin, please," she implored him with a calm voice, "Perhaps we can speak of this at another, more appropriate time. I think we've had quite enough snapping at each other for now, don't you?"

For a moment, Odin didn't know what to say. His wife was one of the few people who could speak to him so. But before long, he nodded in agreement at her, causing a smile to cross her face. "And I do recall that you yourself have something important you would like to discuss with our son?" she asked, nodding her head to Loki before he could ask which one.

Odin raised his eyebrows at her reminder. "Indeed, I do," he realized. He then, with slight hesitation, turned to his son. "I'm afraid this concerns you, Loki," he said, "I meant to tell you last night before you left, but I forgot."

Loki nodded respectfully. "I'm listening," he said.

"Well, I had the idea to throw a masked ball in honor of your engagement to Idunn about a month from now," Odin explained, "But, seeing as how you have practically cancelled it in favor of a woman you barely know…"

"Wait, my dear," Frigga suddenly interrupted him, "What if he should find her before then? We could celebrate his engagement to her."

Odin immediately looked confused at such a suggestion. She of all people should have known by now that he wasn't terribly fond of the notion of a near stranger becoming his daughter-in-law. But still, once he saw the hopeful look on her face, Odin couldn't help but at least consider her idea. "Very well," he sighed, "But if I must compromise, then so too must Loki."

"Name the terms," Loki almost challenged him when his father looked at him again.

"You have one month from now to find this woman whom you claim to love," Odin said, "the end of which will be the stroke of midnight on the night of the ball. At that time, we will announce your engagement to her, otherwise your engagement to Idunn will be announced instead. Is that understood?"

In response to Odin posing a challenge of his own to him, Loki raised his eyebrows, and almost smiled in anticipation. "Perfectly, Father."

Odin nodded. "Good then. May your mother and brother serve as witnesses."

"Of course," Loki nodded back. In front of Frigga and Thor, father and son then exchanged a handshake, sealing their deal, though both secretly hoped that their side would come to fruition. But as Loki turned around and once again looked out the window that allowed him to behold the large kingdom he could one day rule, what he knew for sure was that, no matter how mysterious she might be, the masked thief who stole his heart had to be somewhere out there. From one area of the realm to the other, and whether or not she turned out to be his original beloved, he would search for his bride, and would not stop until he found her.

* * *

Later that day, the most unlikely person to be a bride for either of the princes stood outside her mistress's home, beating the third – and thankfully last – rug in a row. Ylva greatly valued her rugs, which required near constant care. Aska didn't mind that much. Beating the rugs was another one of the few chores she actually enjoyed doing. Pressing her lips together, and holding the tool like a sword with both hands, she hit the rug again and again, allowing dust clouds to emanate from the so called "work of art." She often pretended she was fighting an opponent, but today, the events of last night, and the strangest of feelings that came with it, were the two biggest things Aska wanted to keep her mind off of. Though, that was easier said than done with Regin sitting near her. She sat on one of the stone benches nearby, with a scroll in one hand, and a sharpened pen in the other. The Old Norse characters were upside down from Aska's view, preventing her from reading them. But, judging by the soft smile on her face, and the dreamy look in her eyes, it wasn't hard to tell what Regin was likely up to.

"What are you writing?" Aska asked in between hits, a sneaky smirk on her face, "A love-letter to Jarl?"

As fast as a bolt of lightning, Regin looked up at her with wide eyes. "Shh!" she said as she quickly put her finger to her lips, "They might hear you!"

Aska gave her a confused look. "They're in the back," she assured her, "How could they hear us? Especially with _that_ voice?"

For a moment, Aska and Regin listened to Ylva shouting commands at Brynja. They were having another one of their training sessions today, and, as usual, Ylva wasn't taking any excuses. "I don't care if one of your fingernails is broken!" she shouted, "Never take your eyes off the enemy!"

Though Brynja shouted just as loud back at her mother, Aska and Regin decided to turn their ears away. They both had to deal with Ylva enough throughout each day, any more would simply tire them more than usual. But before Aska could go back to beating the rug, Regin suddenly interrupted her with a voice that matched the sneaky expression Aska wore earlier.

"If that is the case," she said, "Then perhaps you'd be willing to…"

"No!" Aska quickly refused, "A thousand times, no!" And before Regin could ask again, she hit the rug again, and again. All morning she'd been practically begging Aska to tell her what happened last night, but Aska would have none of it. Though she trusted Regin, some secrets were sometimes better left untold, especially ones that sent even her own senses into confusion and wonder.

"Then I won't tell you what I'm writing!" Regin exclaimed as she snatched the scroll up in her hand.

"Fine!" Aska said, almost smiling.

"Fine!" Regin repeated with the same near-smile.

However, as soon as they started getting back to their respectful tasks, a loud, hearty, masculine voice was then heard down the road. "Good day, ladies!" he called. Both immediately turned toward the source of that voice, as they had instantly recognized it. The two then beheld a smiling face they knew all too well, one that caused a smile to appear on their faces too.

"Jarl!" both girls exclaimed. But just then, Regin's smile quickly vanished when she realized how loud she'd spoken. Though Aska had told her earlier that her mother and sister were in the back, if they came to the front yard now, everything she'd planned for herself and Jarl would explode like a dying star. Still, seeing as neither appeared, Regin regained her smile, put her scroll and pen aside, and then left her seat to rush over and join Aska to meet with the blacksmith.

Once their eyes met, Jarl immediately looked concerned. "Wait Regin, are your mother and sister nearby?" he asked.

"We should be safe for a few minutes," she replied, trying to assure herself as well as him.

"Do you have the horseshoes?" Aska then asked, eager as much as they were to hurry through this before they were spotted.

"Oh, yes, of course," Jarl nodded. He then took from his belt and held out a pair of brand-new, finely-made iron horseshoes, both held by a rope. At the sight of them, Aska breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank you!" she said, "We've been waiting so long for those!"

"Sorry to have kept you waiting," Jarl apologized as he handed them to her, "I would have delivered them yesterday, but I've been having more clients than usual."

"Think nothing of it," Aska shook her head.

"And you know," Jarl then said, "I saw you riding toward the palace last night. What were you doing?"

Before he finished asking his question, Aska's eyes widened and her smile turned into a frown in less than a second. For a moment, she felt as if she would freeze with shock. No matter how much she wanted to avoid it, it seemed that last night's adventure was just begging to be told. And judging from Regin's eager expression, it appeared she was ready to beg as well.

"Yes," she said, "What _were_ you doing?"

With two sets of curious eyes staring at her, it didn't take long for Aska to realize that there was almost no chance of getting out of this trap. Biting her lip, and then giving a sigh, she said, "Let's pretend you're both deaf. You never heard what I am about to tell you."

Both Regin and Jarl nodded, and, with great reluctance, Aska told them her tale. "I journeyed to Jotunheim to try and find out why the Frost Giant were escaping," she said, filling Jarl in on that important detail, "I made it there, and then ended up fighting Jotuns alongside the princes and their warriors."

"You didn't!" Regin exclaimed in disbelief.

Aska ignored her and went on, preferring to get it over with as fast as possible. "In the midst of the fighting though, Prince Loki was hurt, and he was about to be killed by a beast, ridden by a female Frost Giant."

"Really?" Jarl asked, "I didn't know they existed."

"Shh!" Regin quickly shushed him, "Go on! What did you do?"

"Well, I obviously had to do something," Aska replied, "so, I challenged the beast, and then, I slew it."

Jarl and Regin's eyes immediately became as wide as saucers, a sight so funny that Aska couldn't help but chuckle. "But his Highness was still hurt, so I volunteered to take him back to Asgard," she then said.

"So that's why you were riding toward the palace," Jarl realized.

"Is he well?!" Regin asked, dying as ever to know.

"As far as I know," Aska replied. She then looked away slightly, and, in a softer voice, without thinking, she said, "I, hope he is."

Suddenly, before anyone could say anything else, they all then heard the sound of hoofbeats coming up the pathway toward them. All three looked with surprised faces to see what appeared to be a guard from the palace, wearing fine armor made of gold that matched that of the palace, and guiding his horse toward the house. All could immediately tell that he'd been traveling for quite some time, as his red face gave him away. And all three, especially Aska, wondered what a guard from the palace could be doing out here. Soon, he pulled his large, dark brown, and just as tired, horse to a stop. Then, holding the reins with one hand, he then took what appeared to be two small scrolls from his belt.

"Pardon me," he said, addressing Aska, "is this the home of the Lady Ylva?"

"Yes," Aska nodded, trying not to let her now tangled nerves infect her voice.

"Please, give these to her," the guard said, handing her both the scrolls, "They are important messages from the palace."

"Thank you," Aska said, "I'll see to it that she gets both."

"Very well," the guard nodded, taking the reins in both his hands again, "Good day, all of you."

Without waiting for a response, he gave his horse a slight kick in the flanks, and then urged him into a canter, leaving Aska, Regin, and Jarl to watch him travel down the road to the town proper until he left their sight. Once he was gone, Aska looked with interest at the two scrolls he'd given her. One was wrapped with a fine red ribbon, and the other in a purple one. Both had glittering gold on the borders. She could only wonder what messages they contained, and if they had anything to do with her.

"What do they say?" Regin asked.

"I don't know," Aska replied, "But we should probably get these to Ylva immediately."

"Oh right," Regin nodded, "If they're from the palace she'll definitely want to see them." But before either of them could go to the backyard, Jarl quickly grabbed Regin by the wrist. And before Aska and Regin knew it, the blacksmith was holding his secret sweetheart in his strong arms.

"Wait," he said, his voice now smooth, "Before you go, you must say goodbye."

"Oh!" Regin whined playfully, "Not in front of Aska!"

"Oh, she's not going to tell," Jarl replied, just as playful before planting a kiss on her cheek. Even he wasn't going to be too flirtatious in front of his love's best friend, but that kiss obviously had to be planted somewhere. "Until next time?" he then said, while Aska watched with a smile as he stroked Regin's black night hair.

"Until next time," Regin nodded, the dreamy look in her eyes returning, if only for a short time. Almost as if forcing herself to let go of him, she then turned to Aska, and seriousness quickly replaced the charm she previously wore on her face. "Come, we must hurry if we don't want to get caught."

"Of course," Aska replied with the same tone of voice. She then turned around and, with both the scrolls and the new horseshoes in her hands, hurried toward the backyard with Regin, waving a hand at the blacksmith. "Good day Jarl!" she said, "And thank you for the horseshoes!"

If Jarl gave a reply, she didn't hear it, for the apprehension in her mind regarding what the scrolls from the palace had to say immediately replaced the feelings of sentimentality toward the sweetness just portrayed in front of her. Even if she herself never experienced it, and she didn't know if she wanted to, Aska couldn't help but admire Regin's love for a common man.

However, by the time she and Regin approached Ylva and Brynja, both now sweating in a very unladylike fashion from the demanding physical discipline they were practicing, all feelings of delight and such quickly evaporated like droplets of rain on a hot day, not only because of the task ahead of the two, but because Brynja looked even more irritated than usual.

"For heaven's sake Mother!" Brynja shouted as she tossed her shield and sword to the ground, "I don't see why I have to learn all of this! Beauty is almost always preferred over battle skills when it comes to potential husbands!"

Aska subconsciously smirked, as she found herself silently agreeing with Brynja.

Despite the glow she gave off, Ylva more carefully put aside her shield and sword, graceful as always, like a black swan. "You'd be surprised Brynja," she said with a remarkably calm voice rather different than the one Aska and Regin heard her using before, "Most Asgardian men like the notion of a woman being able to defend herself rather than scream for help all the time."

"How could you know what most men like when you're a woman?" Brynja asked rhetorically, "As I recall most Asgardian men prefer non-sweaty women as well!"

Seeing her chance, Aska, using the soft voice that naturally came to her when around Ylva, suddenly said, "My ladies?"

Like a wolf instantly spotting its prey, Ylva whirled around and exclaimed in a somewhat angry voice, "Yes?!"

So fast was she, with eyes that were rather menacing even for her, that both Regin and Aska flinched, blinking their widened eyes twice and then wondering if they should back away. But despite their desires to do so, Ylva continued ranting and raving. "Yes Aska, what is it?" she asked, "What could be so important that you can't wait for another five minutes to tell me?"

Aska nearly reminded her mistress that it seemed that she and Brynja were finishing up, but she quickly stopped herself, instead handing out everything in both her hands. "Forgive me, madam, but these just arrived," she replied, "The horseshoes and two messages from the palace."

"The palace?!" Brynja suddenly asked incredulously. Right then she hastened with full speed, wide eyes, and eager hands toward Aska, exclaiming, "Let me see them!"

Though she managed to snatch both the scrolls from Aska's hold, Regin immediately tried taking them back from her. "Wait!" she said, "Mother's the lady of the house, she should see them!"

Brynja held her sister back with one hand while keeping the scrolls from her in the other, like keeping a bone from a rather desperate dog. "But I'm the oldest!" she insisted, "Let me read them first!"

Just then, their mother loudly clapped her hands, immediately getting the attention of her daughters and her maidservant. "That's quite enough girls!" Ylva scolded them, "Let me see the scrolls!"

Having been frozen right where they were once Ylva caught their attention, Brynja and Regin quickly got out of their tangled positions, and Brynja reluctantly handed the scrolls to Ylva. With her long fingers, and a slight smile on her face, she opened the scroll with the red ribbon on it, keeping the other one with the purple ribbon under her arm. Once she unrolled it completely, in a rare show of surprise, Ylva's eyebrows immediately widened and she gasped with what sounded like excitement.

"Well what is it?" Brynja asked, "Tell us already!"

Without looking up at her from the scroll, Ylva replied almost ecstatically, "My dears! A month from now, his Majesty will be holding a masked ball!"

"A masked ball?" Regin asked.

"In honor of his younger son, Prince Loki!" Ylva continued, ignoring her younger daughter.

"Prince Loki?!" Brynja asked with wide-eyed disbelief.

"And," Ylva then said, knowing the best was yet to come, "by the king's command, all young ladies eligible for marriage must attend!"

At that glorious news, Brynja squealed with excitement, causing Regin and Aska to laugh, though at her rather than with her. However, both were also marveling at the invitation. A masked ball? In honor of Prince Loki? Aska didn't know what to think. It felt as though her thoughts had been released like hunting dogs, silently running wild in a forest of consciousness, along with the confused emotions she was feeling lately. But suddenly, as a great realization descended upon her, Aska's smile became genuine, and she quickly made her realization known.

"Then, I suppose I can go as well?" she suggested.

All three pairs of eyes around her immediately turned on her, and Brynja was the first one to voice her humored shock. "You? At such a fine event?" she asked jokingly, "What business would a servant girl have at a masked ball, other than to clean up after everyone?!" She then – unwittingly – returned Aska's favor and began laughing at her, until Regin stepped in to her defense.

"But isn't that the command?" she said, "For all young ladies able to marry to attend?"

"Indeed," Ylva then replied with an agreeing voice, "For once, you are right Regin." Right then, Ylva turned her always-focusing gaze on Aska and, in a display all too rare for her, appeared to smile at her. "Do you wish to attend Aska?"

Aska's eyebrows instantly shot up, now that she was being smiled at by the same woman who just addressed her in a rather frustrated manner, and, more importantly, at the question. Knowing Ylva would want an immediate answer, but not knowing yet what to say, Aska gave the one that first came to mind. "I don't know," she replied honestly.

"Well, if you do," Ylva said, "you would have to do everything I tell you, and, of course, find a suitable costume to wear."

Though she herself had mixed feelings regarding the notion of attending such a momentous event, hearing these words addressed rather warmly to her by the woman she believed couldn't stand her was even more momentous. Indeed, she could scarcely believe her ears. "Really?" she asked.

But apparently, Aska wasn't the only one who felt so. Immediately, Brynja complained, "Mother! Are you honestly considering letting someone like _her_ go?"

"A king's order _is_ a king's order Brynja," Ylva replied with the utmost seriousness, "It would be most unwise to disobey it."

Brynja gasped, and her face quickly turned red, both from embarrassment, and anger, which she quickly directed at Aska in the form of a scowl. "Consider yourself lucky!" she sneered at her, "I wouldn't count on this if I were you!"

Trying to divert her sister's anger from the girl who actually acted like a sister toward her, Regin quickly asked her mother, "Mother, why don't you read the next scroll?"

"Very well," Ylva replied without a nod. After rolling up the first scroll and then putting it under one arm, she took out from under her other arm the scroll with the purple ribbon, opened it, and unrolled it. This time, instead of near giddy happiness, confusion and even frustration quickly crossed her face.

"Wha-," Ylva almost stammered, "It's a wanted poster!"

Aska immediately looked up, knowing this might be about her, and listened with a near racing heart as her mistress continued. "A handsome reward will be bestowed by his Highness Prince Loki Odinson upon any person who knows of the Purple Phantom's whereabouts or identity," Ylva announced, "False information will not be tolerated."

Brynja, like before, reacted instantly. "Hah!" she almost laughed, "I knew it! I knew sooner or later he'd become attracted to that Purple Pig!"

Her mother looked at her with raised eyebrows, wondering at such a statement coming from the one who preferred beauty over skill, which the vigilante clearly had, but also at another perplexing issue. "But Brynja, it is Prince Thor who is the crown-prince. If you married him you could one day be Queen of Asgard!"

Brynja wasted no time in retorting her. "But Prince Loki is so much more handsome! So much more charming! The day he marries someone else will be the day I die!"

Still remaining calm, Ylva tried again to reason with her. "Now dear, there's nothing wrong with a little responsibility."

"Says the one who refuses to rejoin court like a coward!" Brynja suddenly exclaimed.

Ylva said nothing. Her mouth fell open, and she looked with disbelief at such a display of boldness from her own daughter, especially toward her. But before she could say anything at all, Brynja continued complaining. "And besides, even if lies won't be accepted, there are many in the realm who fit the Phantom's description!" she pointed out, "In fact, even, even Aska could be a suspect!"

Suddenly, before she could suppress it, Ylva let out a disbelieving laugh, her previous shock at Brynja having melted away. "Oh, come now daughter, be reasonable! How could our weak and skinny servant girl possibly be a sword-wielding vigilante?"

While she wasn't looking, a shadow of a smirk crossed the faces of both Regin and Aska.

"But on one point you are right," Ylva continued, having recovered from her laughter, "It's unlikely his Highness could ever find the true one. He would be wiser spending that time seeking a more suitable wife, and, in fact, _we_ would be wise to start making plans!"

Brynja's face immediately lit up as her mother rolled up the second scroll, and then took both scrolls in one hand. "Come," she said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "We must all be getting inside, we have work to do! Aska?"

Aska raised her eyebrows and straightened, ready to take orders.

"Get the rugs and put them inside," Ylva commanded, "You may then take the horseshoes to the stables. Brynja, Regin, come with me."

"Wait, wait, Mother," Regin said, "I left something on the bench, let me go get it."

With uncharacteristic impatience, Ylva rolled her eyes at her. "Very well. But be fast," she warned her.

Regin nodded, and then began walking with Aska toward the front yard, while Ylva and Brynja headed toward the back of the house. Once they were sure it was safe, Regin and Aska immediately began discussing the rather wonderful yet somewhat baffling messages – at least, that was how it seemed to Aska.

"You see!" Regin exclaimed excitedly, "I knew you liked him! And he likes you too!"

"I didn't say I liked him!" Aska replied in an equally excited voice, though one of frustration, "And, it's not even the real me he, _likes_."

"You don't need to!" Regin said in response to her first statement before answering her second one, "And think about this, this could be the solution to all our problems!"

"This is a problem in itself!" Aska interjected.

"What are you talking about?" Regin asked, genuinely confused.

"Think about _this_ Regin!" Aska almost implored her, "I'm a kitchen maid! I work day and night and he's expecting, a valkyrie, or a princess, or, something else great!"

"But you saved his life," Regin reminded her with a smile before rolling up her scroll, "That must count for something."

"I don't know," Aska shook her now weary head, "I just need time to think about all of this. It's just, too much to take in at once."

Regin nodded as she picked up her scroll and pen. "I understand. But, let me know when you want to attend the ball!"

Before Aska could say anything else, Regin walked off toward the back of the house, leaving Aska alone with the three clean rugs, and her thoughts which she could barely navigate. Indeed, her hands were shaking slightly as she took the rug of the line, almost dropping it.

An invitation, and a wanted poster. Why both at once? Was it a mistake? Was it a possible trap? It seemed so, judging by the nervous pace of Aska's heartbeat. And yet, it also seemed not to, judging by what she'd seen of his Highness. Friendly, brave, and free-spirited. A lot like her, she noted with a bit of surprise. But still, she wasn't used to receiving such attention. It felt frightening and flattering at the same time. The thought of being unmasked by one of the princes himself filled her with dread, but, also a nameless emotion she didn't recall ever feeling before. Would she face it, or flee it? How long did she have to make that decision? So many questions, thoughts, and feelings traveled erratically through Aska's mind that she wondered if all would eventually overwhelm her. But two questions stood out above all the others. She only just met the prince, but, why did she feel so drawn to and so familiar around him? And, why did she flinch when Ylva looked at her with those intense eyes?

* * *

_Reviews would be appreciated._


	7. The Search Begins

**Not Your Average Cinderella**

Chapter 6 – The Search Begins

Two weeks passed. Two weeks that felt like two years for both the prince who had found himself in love, and the phantom in disguise whom he wanted so desperately to find. Though, to be fair, the days that passed were slightly easier for Aska. While Loki had to wait until he was well enough to join the search, Aska found a strange comfort in doing her usual chores like it was any other day, keeping her mind as well as her body busy. On one day in particular, she found herself literally up to her knees in soapy water, kneeling while she was cleaning the floor in the foyer. Still, even if these was one of the more back-breaking labors, Aska still tried to find joy in it. Occasionally, when no one was looking, she would dip her hand in the bucket and try to blow bubbles. But not today.

As she moved the wet cloth in circles on the floor around her, making sure to reach the usual perfection Ylva required, Aska once again found her mind drifting like the foam of the soap back to the day when the messages from the palace arrived. It seemed that no matter how much she tried to avoid them, the questions like naughty children kept coming back demanding the answers that would satisfy them. If it was true, and Prince Loki was seeking her hand in marriage, would it really be the solution to her and Regin's problems? How could she marry someone she barely knew, whom she met only twice? For a moment, Aska smirked, as she knew what Regin would say. "Once or twice is all it takes if it's the one." And on the slim chance that his Highness was really as she perceived him to be…

No. Aska shook her head. It was preposterous, all this wishful thinking. For five years wishful thinking hadn't gotten her the freedom she so wanted. So what could it do for her now? Trying to focus her mind on other issues, Aska turned to the other question that had been plaguing her, regarding Ylva, and the way she seemed to alarm her so quickly. Though she was wary of her mistress's temper, and had seen it several times since she'd come here, something about the look Ylva gave her that day filled her with a great fear, which she didn't recall ever feeling around her. It was almost as if she felt it sometime before. But being so focused on the work ahead of her, it was hard for Aska to try and recall the last time she did feel it, if she ever did before.

Suddenly, she lifted her head up as she heard footsteps behind her. Aska didn't need to turn her head, for she immediately recognized Brynja once she heard her taunting voice. "You missed a spot ash-face!" she said.

Without looking at her, Aska only gave a drawn-out sigh and asked, "Where?"

Just then, before she could guess what would happen next, she flinched as she felt a large splash of cold water slapping her in the back like a giant hand. With wide eyes and her senses now knocked out of her, she watched as the rest of water flowed in all directions on the floor around her, and as droplets fell one by one from her now wet braid.

"You!" Brynja replied before allowing a fit of laughter to escape her. Aska remained still while she listened to the girl's cackling, and wondered how she allowed herself to fall for such a simple trap, when Brynja soon stopped laughing and gave a more sneering voice to another concern in the back of her mind.

"Why either of the princes would want you is beyond me," she said, before Aska heard her walking out of the room without another word, leaving her alone in her puddle of embarrassment. In fact, she wished for a moment that she could simply sink into it.

_And me_, she thought in response to Brynja's statement as she then attempted to squeeze the water out of her hair, which quickly proved to be easier said than done. Before long though, she heard another set of footsteps come her way into the room from the opposite direction, and she turned to meet Regin, who could only react to the somewhat alarming sight before her by giving Aska an apologetic face. Replying without words, Aska tried to lighten the situation by giving her a bit of a smirk. But right then, both turned their heads to the front door as they heard a few knocks on it.

"Oh, let me get it," Regin offered. Without waiting for a reply, she then strode over to the front door, though Aska tried to object.

"Regin, wait," she tried to get her attention. But it was too late. Regin opened the door and stood in the open sunlight, blocking the visitor from Aska's view and Aska from the visitor's view. Though she appreciated Regin's effort to spare her of further embarrassment, Aska wondered for a moment if Regin had forgotten her mother's rules, all of which she strictly kept, even the little ones.

"Yes, can I help you?" Regin cheerfully asked.

"Is this the home of Lady Ylva?" a man's voice asked. From the glint of gold armor that then caught her eye, Aska assumed that the man was a guard from the palace. But, what was he doing here?

"Yes it is," Regin replied as she nodded.

The guard then handed Regin what seemed to be a scroll wrapped in a rather prominent glittering gold ribbon. "A message from her Majesty the queen," he said, causing Aska to raise her eyebrows in surprise. A personal message from Queen Frigga to Ylva? Well, she did recall her mistress saying that she and the queen were old acquaintances. Not too far-fetched a claim, since Ylva once lived at court.

"Please see that she gets it," the guard then said.

"I will," Regin nodded as she took the scroll, "Thank you, and good day."

"Good day, Madam," the guard said back. Once he turned away and walked off, Regin closed the door, looking at the scroll with as much curiosity as Aska. But as curious as Aska was about it, she grew even more uneasy at the consequences she knew now awaited her.

"What do you think it says?" Regin asked.

"I don't know," Aska replied slightly nervously, "But, you might want to get out of here before…"

Just then, Aska's heartbeat increased dramatically as she heard footsteps stride quickly into the foyer, footsteps that belonged to none other than Ylva, resembling a large black cat with her black fur dress and well-fitting provoked face. But what she also carried, which Aska now seemed to notice whenever she was around her, was this strange air about her, one that Aska didn't recall feeling when near her before two weeks ago. "Regin!" she immediately exclaimed, "What are you doing? You know it's Aska's job to answer the door!"

Eyebrows raised in alarm at being addressed so for what seemed to be a minor offense, Regin quickly offered an excuse. "But, she was busy, so I thought I'd answer it for her," she explained.

"It looks more like she was lazing around," Brynja suddenly spoke up as she walked into the room with a presence almost as intimidating as her mother's. But Ylva's eyes were now fixed on the scroll in her other daughter's hand.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Um, a message from Queen Frigga to you, Mother," Regin replied, handing the scroll out to her. Both Ylva and Brynja instantly raised their eyebrows with interest.

"The queen?" Ylva asked, clearly intrigued, "Very well, let me see it."

Quickly taking the scroll from Regin, she wasted no time in removing the ribbon and unrolling it. Aska, Regin, and Brynja all watched while she read. No one else seemed to notice, but an anxious frown crossed Aska's face as she considered a previously unlikely possibility. What if this was about her alter-ego, and the wanted poster? Was it a lure for her to latch onto as a plan, or was she simply feeling paranoid? Either way, she then let her mouth fall open when she saw keen fascination fill Ylva's face at what she found, transforming her frowning, marble-like expression into one of smiling appeal.

"Interesting," she noted out loud.

"What? What is it?" Brynja asked eagerly.

While she rolled the scroll again, Ylva replied to all three of the girls, "It appears I have been invited to join her Majesty for afternoon tea, a day before the ball."

At this, Aska and Regin immediately exchanged puzzled faces. While Aska let relief wash over her now that her theory had proved false – or at least, appeared to – the message nonetheless confused her. It had been a while since the lady received an invitation like this, so why now? Again, the likelihood of a trap raised its head again, but Aska decided to put it aside for a time with a little headshake.

Brynja, on the other hand, gave a rather enthusiastic response. "A day before the ball?" she asked. Then, breaking into near-ecstasy, she asked, "Oh Mother, may I go too? It's been so long since we've been at the palace, and Prince Loki might be there as well!"

"Patience, dear," Ylva sighed, "But you have raised a decent point. It has been a considerable time since any of us went to the palace."

"So are we going?" Brynja asked with such eagerness Aska and Regin had to hold back from chuckling.

Though Ylva smiled, Aska could tell it was a false one. She even wondered if Ylva would be so bold as to mock her, but instead, Ylva replied, "I suppose so…"

"Yes!" Brynja promptly cheered, shooting her fists excitedly into the air.

"But I would not count on his Highness being there," Ylva frowned as she reminded her. But Brynja didn't seem to listen, let alone care.

"Oh I should search my wardrobe!" she said hastily, "I must look absolutely perfect!"

Though she didn't dare in Ylva's presence, Aska inwardly rolled her eyes, knowing how picky Brynja could be. She and perfection sometimes seemed an ocean apart. She couldn't help but watch as the much too exhilarated girl rushed as fast as she possibly could up the stairs. Once she left and then heard Ylva sigh, she turned toward her mistress, who seemed somewhat happy that her daughter was now gone.

"And I must go and write a response letter," she said. She herself then turned and left the room the same way in which she came, her fur skirt trailing like a shadow on the floor behind her. And along with her presence, what also left with her was the ominous, disturbing bearing with which she carried herself. It troubled Aska to a point where she realized only after about a whole minute had passed that she was staring out into space at the wall. Indeed, if something like this could put her in such intense concentration, then clearly some mystery awaited her, almost beckoning her to come and solve it. So, she decided, even if the consequences would turn out to be less than pleasant, that she would take the challenge and try to solve it.

Leaving the safety of the foyer, and not looking back, Aska slowly departed the room, and followed the sound of Ylva's trailing skirt down the halls, and eventually to her sitting room. For a moment, she hesitated. Often, even she wasn't allowed in this part of the house. This room was more for looking at than for sitting in. Only Ylva could go in there. Everyone else had to have her permission, or face strict punishment. But today, the need to know the answer to her haunting questions overruled any apprehension of such punishment, and drove her to stand in the doorway, where she saw Ylva sitting down at her desk and taking out a fresh scroll along with a sharpened pen. And it wasn't long before she realized that she wasn't the only one in the room.

"What are you doing here Aska?" she asked, her eyes above her firm frown slightly narrow and even more intense with suspicion.

After finding her voice, Aska replied in her usual mild tone, "If you don't mind, Madam, I'd like to have a brief word with you."

"I'm busy working," Ylva retorted, "And so should you be."

"I promise you, it won't take me very long," Aska nonetheless tried to press her.

She then bit her lip slightly as she waited for a near whip-cracking response. But instead, almost surprisingly, Ylva donned a considering expression, until she briefly closed her eyes and nodded. "Very well," she then said, "But you will get right back to work when we are done."

"Of course," Aska nodded back. Then, not really knowing if this was also permission, she took the three steps inside and finally stood still in front of Ylva and her desk. After receiving no backlash for her actions, Aska took a moment to clear her throat in preparation before giving voice to her concerns.

"My lady," she started, "it's come to my attention that, you've been acting a bit odd lately."

"And what would give you that idea?" Ylva asked.

"Well, is there something I can help you with?" Aska asked.

With raised eyebrows and a face filled with contempt directed toward her, Ylva said, "Aska, if there was something I wanted your help in, do you not think I would have asked you for it first?"

Raising her own eyebrows in nervousness, Aska replied, "Perhaps, but…"

"But nothing," Ylva interrupted her. She then turned her face away from Aska, which eased her yet also unnerved her at the same time, and swiftly dipped her pen in the ink even blacker than her dress before she set it on the scroll and began writing. But while Aska took her mistress's cue that the conversation had ended, Ylva soon offered another, rather unexpected, question of her own.

"Aska," she said without looking up at her, "do you want to know why I took you in?"

Eyebrows raised with curiosity, though she had her suspicions as well, Aska said, "I, suppose. Why?"

Slowly, Ylva raised her head up, until her eyes met Aska's, and stayed locked on hers for as long as she spoke. "Even in exile, I am still a noblewoman, and therefore used to having servants such as yourself to look after me."

Slightly pressing her lips together, knowing how true that statement was, Aska nodded in agreement. But Ylva wasn't done.

"However," she continued, "I also consider myself somewhat of a generous person. If nothing less, my husband would not have let someone like you to suffer alone out there as you did. But, then again, I thought that was who he was before he was killed for treason."

Upon hearing again of Lord Mímir's harrowing death, a dark cloud seemed to settle itself inside the room, causing Aska to look down, away from Ylva's saddening face. For once, in her five years of seeing her as a grim taskmistress, she began almost to pity her, trying to imagine how much grief and disappointment it could take for a person to become a mere shadow of themselves for the rest of their life. She even muttered the words, "I'm sorry."

"Yes," Ylva replied. Then, in what seemed to be an attempt to ward off the far from comfortable feeling, with a different tone of voice she said, "But, feeling sorry for oneself has never gotten anyone anywhere."

Picking up Ylva's new attitude, Aska once again nodded.

"And if we're through with sentiment, it's time to get back to business," Ylva continued. With the usual sternness and watchfulness now returned to her eyes, she said, "Once I am finished with this letter, I want you to ride to the palace and deliver it. Is that understood?"

"Of course," replied Aska, somewhat relieved that they had gone back to their usual way of speaking to one another, "Shall I ready one of the horses now?"

"You would be wise to do so," Ylva agreed.

Without another word, Aska gave one final nod, and then retreated, backward, out of the room before heading down the hallway. She was not accustomed to such feelings of awkwardness, and in fact breathed a sigh of relief once she was out of the house and on the pathway toward the stables, where she hoped her familiarity would be restored.

Less than half an hour later, Aska stood in front of the house beside Arnthor, who was tacked and ready to ride. With the just-finished scroll in her hands, Ylva walked toward Aska and handed it to her, her fingers brushing the scroll like a spider's legs.

Using her usual commanding voice, Aska listened as Ylva gave strict instructions. "You are to go only to the palace and be back before nightfall, is that clear?"

"Yes Madam," Aska nodded. She was about to turn toward Arnthor, when Ylva's gaze seemed to become rather more intense. "And above all, you may not speak to anyone, understood?" she asked with a voice even more austere than before.

Ignoring the slight shiver that traveled up her spine, Aska nodded and said again, "Yes Madam."

Once that was settled, she put the scroll inside her satchel which hung from her shoulder, turned around, and quickly mounted Arnthor. Without saying anything else, or looking back, she forced her tingling fingers to calm into a firm hold on the reins, gently kicked the bay horse in the sides, and urged him into a canter down the pathway ahead of her, keeping her eyes on the road, and happy to get away from the house, even if it was for only an errand.

As she made her way toward the palace under the bright blue sky of mid-day, Aska couldn't help but smile as she took in the sights that greeted her. It was a rather lovely day, and there was plenty to admire on either side of the pathway. She passed by Jarl's wooden house, and the one that stood beside it where she could hear his hammer hitting the iron of whatever it was he was working on, whether it be horseshoes, cooking utensils, weapons, or something else of the sort. In front of another house a few yards down the road, she saw a garden filled with rather beautiful flowers with just as lovely colors: yellow primroses, purple saxifrages, blue buttercups, and so forth. She could almost smell their sweet scents as she rode by.

After a while, Aska came upon another town that she was familiar with. Most people she saw walked on foot, but there was the occasional horseback rider who greeted her. She smiled as she smelled the wonderful scent of fresh sweets coming from the baker's stand. She chuckled as she saw young children scampering by, laughing and looking as though they were playing tag. How she envied them, knowing they were without cares or worries. It made a slight frown appear on her face for a moment. But then, for a brief and almost alarming moment, she recalled her mistress's advice which proved surprisingly useful. In fact, Aska would have said she was right. Pitying herself would do nothing to lift her out of the gloom she lived in. Indeed, things could have been much worse.

Once she passed through the town, all that stood between Aska and the palace was the road on which she traveled. She had slowed Arnthor to a trot when going through the town, but now that there were not many people in her way, she eased him back into his previous cantering pace. As she got closer to the palace though, she frowned, not only at the realization that if she had weak eyes she would have been blinded by the bright gold of the palace, but at the strange, unsettling fog of a sensation that surrounded her and intensified the closer she got to it.

All Aska was sure of it was that she recognized this feeling as the one she felt that one night. Like before, something felt oddly familiar, like the palest memory of a dream emerging in the back of her mind. Sure, this was the place when, as the Purple Phantom, she had to stay clear of. And yet, even in her normal servant's clothes, the sensation felt slightly stronger than before, almost as though it was trying to tell her something. But what?

Suddenly, she realized that she was only a few yards from one of the palace entrances. A stone staircase stood in front with two guards standing at the bottom and two others at the top, a scene all too similar to the one she came across last night. Even so, she reined her horse to a stop, and then dismounted, making sure to stand straight before striding toward one of the guards. Swiftly, he held his hand up at her, making her quickly stop in her tracks.

"Halt!" he said, "State your name, where you hail from, and your business."

Quickly, Aska replied to all three of his questions respectively. "My name is Aska, I come from the home of Lady Ylva, and I have a letter responding to the one sent to her this morning, for her Majesty Queen Frigga." She opened her satchel and took out the scroll wrapped in a red ribbon. The guard eyed her and then the scroll for a moment, before he nodded and held out his hand.

"Very well," he said, "I will see to it that her Majesty gets this letter. Thank you for your business."

"My pleasure," Aska nodded as she placed the scroll in his hand. She then breathed a small sigh of relief, now that her errand was over and she could get back to the house. She turned around and began heading back toward her horse, but little did she know that she would have a literal run-in with the last person she expected to meet.

* * *

Loki had been walking back and forth through the courtyards alone for almost an hour now. Earlier that morning, he and Thor had gone through another village, on yet another disappointing search for the aptly named spirit who seemed to leave as quickly as she'd come. He knew the week before, when he was well enough to ride a horse and go about, that he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up. And yet, that hope within him surged whenever he approached another village. But now, he didn't know if he could search any more, see any more young ladies all too eager to fill the empty place in his heart.

Thor had asked him how he would know the Purple Phantom, since she was masked. Loki's answer was that the girl had to have that strong, spirited presence surrounding her. It practically emanated from her when he first saw her, standing as confident as a lioness before the monsters that would make most girls weak in the knees. As he stared at the stone walkway beneath him, Loki let out a drawn-out, tired sigh. Tired of searching nearly endlessly in almost the same manner he did years ago. If this had been another issue, he would have confided with his brother, but he wasn't sure if even he would understand this.

Suddenly though, he bumped into someone in his way. At once, Loki heard a feminine gasp. He quickly looked up and opened his mouth to apologize, when his eyes widened, and a smile crossed his face upon seeing a familiar servant girl before him. Indeed, his mouth remained open, so great was his surprise. And seeing what appeared to be ashes on her pale cheeks, he immediately remembered her name. "Aska!"

* * *

Once he had bumped into her, Aska wondered who would be so foolish as to run into someone right in front of them, but her eyes widened instantly when she saw who exactly it was. She could practically feel the color drain from her startled face as she recognized him and heard him say her name. The prince who stood before her was none other than Loki Odinson. And, as before when she'd first met him, for a moment she struggled to find her voice.

"Your Highness!" she exclaimed once she did. But her body was slow to catch up. The back of her legs came against what felt to be stone, and she promptly sat down on what she realized to be a bench, her eyes never straying from the petrifying lock on his.

"My lord!" one of the guards spoke up suddenly. He began making his way toward them, but Loki quickly held up his hand, stopping him just as fast as the guard previously stopped her.

"Stand down," Loki said sternly, "She's with me."

Immediately, the guard did as he was told, backing away to his original post. A faint smile managed to appear on Aska's face at what his Highness just did for her, but it quickly disappeared when he turned back to her, despite his own friendly smile.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

For a short while, Aska wondered if she should reply, having remembered Ylva strict orders not to speak to anyone, but she reasoned that she could at least answer his Highness. "I was sent to deliver a responding message from my mistress to her Majesty, the queen."

Loki raised his eyebrows and nodded with interest. "Ah," he said, "I see. I'm sorry, am I delaying you?"

"No," Aska shook her head, "I was just leaving." At that moment, she thought to stand up from the bench, proceed back to her horse, and leave the place that made her feel so bizarre. And yet, part of her did not want to leave right now. A silent voice urged her to remain on the bench, to remain here, with his Highness. Another voice protested, saying that the longer she stayed, the greater the risk of him recognizing her would become. But still, while she felt rather nervous now that he stood right in front of her, even stronger was the feeling of unusual familiarity she felt when she first met him. It made her feel rather pleased, even happy, at being greeted in such a way by one such as him. Quickly, and somewhat reluctantly, she thought of a way around her mistress's instructions, when she realized that she wasn't even here. Why would she have to tell her.

"On second thought," she said, "I suppose I could stay a little while longer."

Loki's face immediately brightened, as if he'd hoped she'd say that. "That's good," he said, "because I was wondering if I could ask you something."

He quickly turned around and sat down next to her, while her nervousness quickly increased. She knew very well what he might ask her, and quickly thought of a question of her own to change the subject before it could start. "Wait, before you ask," she said, "are you feeling better?"

"What?" Loki asked with an inquisitive face.

Almost immediately, Aska wanted to berate herself. She should have known that as a commoner, she would be the last to know of such momentous events as Loki's wounded shoulder. But the need to know quickly outweighed the redness that threatened to appear on her cheeks, so she quickly concocted an excuse.

"I heard that you were injured," she replied, "and in Jotunheim. What, what were you doing there?"

"That, I'm afraid, must remain confidential," Loki frowned. Aska hesitated to smirk, since she did not need to be told anyway. Loki's smile quickly returned. "But in answer to your previous question, yes, I am doing better. In fact, they say I'm healing faster than they expected."

Hearing that, a smile of relief spread itself across Aska's face. "Wonderful," she said. But then, it faded slightly, as she knew it was inevitable that conversation would now turn, unwittingly, on her. "I also heard that you are searching for the one who, rescued, you?" she asked.

"Indeed I am," Loki nodded as he raised his eyebrows.

Trying her best, Aska pretended to behave as anyone else would under such circumstances. "The Purple Phantom, was it?" she asked.

"Yes," Loki nodded again. Then, looking her straight in the eyes, with an almost imploring voice, he said to her, "Please, I need to find her. I've been searching village after village."

Once he said so, for the briefest of seconds, Aska's heart slammed itself against her chest. So, as she'd imagined, ever since the wanted poster had arrived, he had been looking for her. The thought filled her with anxiety, but strangely also, at the same time, flattery. But still, one question remained, the answer to which seemed to sit right in front of her like the prince. "Really?" she asked, still trying to remain calm and unknowing, "Why so?"

Loki opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again as a considering expression donned his face, looking as though he was wondering whether or not he should say what he intended, when, after a short while, he looked as though he decided to do so. "Well, I've told you one royal secret," he said, "Perhaps I can tell you another?"

He asked so pleasantly, for a moment, Aska's smile returned. "My lips are sealed," she promised him.

"Good," Loki smiled as well. He then frowned a bit, as he turned his eyes toward the guards nearby to see if they were watching. When he saw that they weren't he leaned in slightly, and began telling her his secret. "My father and I have struck a deal," he said in a voice only they could hear, "For the time being, my engagement to Lady Idunn has been cancelled."

Aska raised her eyebrows, remembering how distastefully he spoke of the lady-in-waiting previously.

"But I have only until midnight on the evening of the masked ball my father is holding to find out who the Purple Phantom is, or my engagement to her will be back on," he continued, "In truth, the reason I'm searching for her is because…I'm going to ask her to marry me."

Once the words escaped him, it took all of Aska's effort to keep sitting straight on the bench. It felt as though the slightest gust of wind could now push it over were it not for her willpower. Hearing such a profound declaration, and from his Highness, it was almost too much to bear. So many emotions threatened to be released, to race through her mind like wild horses, but she held them back long enough to ask a question that begged to be asked. "Why? You barely even know her."

"But I might," Loki then said, a great hope suddenly appearing in his eyes.

Again, Aska felt her heart hit against her chest like before. But she was not going to betray herself. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well," he said in an even softer voice than before, "I have the idea that she might be, my original betrothed, Lady Sigyn."

At the same time, Aska felt as though she'd reacted two different ways. First, she breathed a mental sigh of relief that she wasn't whom he had in mind. But also, she raised her eyebrows again upon hearing that name. She'd heard it only once before, and ever since she'd come under Ylva's roof, it seemed to be an unspoken rule in the surrounding towns not to bring up her name.

A faint smile crossed Loki's face, almost as if he wondered if he'd said something silly. "I don't know if it's the young lad in me," he said, "or, something else, but, part of me really wants it to be her. You know what happened to her right?"

Aska nodded. "I believe I do," she replied, "I heard that she perished in a great fire along with her parents."

"Well, that's the current theory," Loki admitted, "We never did find her body." Then, as Aska watched, he slowly started to look as though he felt bittersweet, like he didn't know whether to smile or frown.

"Everywhere she went, she made almost everyone around her smile, including me," he said. Though it appeared as though he was speaking to himself, Aska continued to listen with growing interest.

"She was so full of life and wit and curiosity. We grew very fond of each other. But, when she disappeared…" Now Loki did frown, and rather sadly, Aska noticed. "I spent weeks searching almost every part of the realm for her, but, she was gone," he then said with a tone that matched his expression perfectly. Indeed, it proved to be somewhat contagious, as Aska slowly found herself feeling the same way. She'd never seen someone so despondent over losing a loved one, and it tugged at the innermost strings of her heart.

But, as usual, common sense quickly recovered her before she could go too deep. "But, what if it turns out not to be her?" she asked.

"I will still ask her to marry me," Loki replied, "I don't think I could ask any other."

Hearing him say so rendered Aska nearly speechless. She couldn't recall another time when she felt so touched. But, if he'd known he were speaking of her… Should she even dare think of telling him? On the one hand, she was still a servant. Servants did not marry royalty. It simply did not happen. And besides, she didn't even know him that well anyway. And yet, on the other hand, to be spoken about so sincerely, even if unwittingly, it filled her with a happiness she hadn't ever felt before. Indeed, a herd of butterflies seemed to find its way inside her, incessantly beating their silent wings.

But just then, the sight of the blue sky, now slightly darker than before, caught her eyes. "Oh no," she said, "How did it get so late?"

"Pardon?" Loki asked.

Reluctantly, with a hint of hesitation, Aska stood up from the stone bench, looking apologetically at him. "Forgive me, your Highness," she said, "I must be getting home." Swiftly, without waiting for another word from Loki, or herself, Aska walked hastily toward Arnthor, who whinnied happily at her, knowing what was about to happen.

"Will you be coming to the ball?" Loki asked her.

Though she didn't know if she wanted to, Aska allowed herself a glance back at his Highness, and gave him neither a frown nor a smile. "Perhaps," she replied, "I'm not sure." With that, she turned away from him again, and then mounted Arnthor, whom she quickly had to take control of by taking the reins.

But before she could go, she couldn't help but give one final look at the prince, as well as a soft smile, which he returned. "Good day your Highness," she said. Then, remembering to act as if she otherwise did not know, she added, "I hope you find whom you're looking for."

"I thank you," Loki nodded, "Good day."

Aska nodded back, turned her horse around, and without looking back, quickly urged him into a canter. Just as fast, the effort to smile fled from her. Even though she might have felt somewhat rude at leaving in such haste, and might have given Loki more cause for suspicion, she felt nothing but eager to get back to the one place that now felt rather safe, to get away from the place and the person both of which made her feel so unlike what she was used to.

* * *

The rest of the day passed rather quickly for most of Asgard, until the blue sky of the day was replaced by the black one of the night. Barely an hour or two had passed after the sky had grown completely dark, when most of the Asgardians had taken to their beds, including his Highness, Loki Odinson. Solemnly, he laid in his bed, with his hands behind his head, not very mindful of the only two torches which lit his room. Several times he'd tried closing his eyes, knowing how much he needed to sleep after such a day, yet his body, much like his mind, simply refused to.

Ever since Aska left, Loki had felt rather confused. Before coming across her, he couldn't think of anyone he could tell his troubles to. True, he liked the servant girl, but, why was it so easy to share his thoughts with her and not someone from his own family? He also couldn't help but notice how quickly, and even eager, she seemed to leave. He guessed that being a maid she probably had other things she needed to attend to. But, she seemed almost nervous about it as well. And, even more disturbing, he brought up the possibility that he probably liked her more than he previously thought. But, he couldn't love two women at once could he? Perhaps it was simply getting his emotions out that was causing him to feel this way. Then again, he hadn't really felt this way before, so he couldn't be certain.

In fact, almost nothing seemed certain after today, even the prospect of finding the one who matched him perfectly. It was as if no matter where he looked, and how determined he was, he seemed to just miss her. But how could he simply give up on trying to find her? How could he let the chance to see her, to touch her again, slip through his fingers? Oh, he remembered feeling that way when Sigyn went missing, and she never turned up. Loki closed his eyes again, though this time it accompanied another, drawn-out sigh, probably the twelfth one he released today. And yet…

Hope's flame could not be burned out, no matter how hopeless the road ahead seemed for him. Even if he eventually did not find her, Loki knew that he had to at least try. In the months following Sigyn's loss, he had sunken into such a deep, dark pit of aching depression he didn't think he could ever get out of it. It was as if a cold, hard hand had grabbed hold of his heart, refusing to let go no matter how much he wished. How he managed to escape either at all remained a wonder to him. But if he could honor the memory of his former betrothed in any way, he would do it by searching for her, never mind whether he found her or not.

But for things as they were now, it didn't look like he'd be getting the sleep he so desperately wanted, at least for now. Maybe there was something he could do to try and make himself tired, or, at the very least, vent all his negative emotions. Almost subconsciously, Loki's mind drifted back to that day just two weeks ago, when he did one of the most daring things in his life, and a slight smile grew on his face as he thought of an idea.

Like he did that day, Loki took the sheets of his bed and the other spare set, drew them both out, and began tying them together into knots, reminding himself to thank his brother for teaching him how to make such knots when they were boys. Once he finished and was satisfied with how tight they were, he looped one end and then tied it around one of the poles on his bed before casting the rest out the open window. He then remembered that he needed to be in appropriate dress, and quickly exchanged his night tunic for his black warrior's suit along with his hooded cape, preferring, as he'd done so that previous day, to go unnoticed. He even tucked a few knives in his belt, knowing that at night time, the sense of danger would be greater for one such as him.

Once he had everything together, Loki then began his descent out of the window and then down to the ground below, smirking at how he was managing to do it again. He made it safely, and quickly looked around to make sure he wasn't being watched, before he quietly but hastily made his way to the stables a few hundred yards away. He breathed a sigh of relief to find that most of the stable-hands had gone, and carefully opened the door so as not to wake the horses, save for one. Remaining as quiet as possible, he crept up to the third stall on the left, and there, met his favorite stallion, black as the night sky outside with no markings on his legs or face, and strangely awake, almost as if he'd been waiting for him. Reaching his hand inside, Loki stroked the great animal's muzzle, smiling at how happy he noted he was to see him. But before he could whinny, he quickly put his finger to his lips and then nodded, assuring his steed they would get the ride he wished.

Biting his lip, Loki lifted the latch and slowly pulled the door opened. Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead, but the building remained silent, as he wished. He looked around one more time, and as soon as he was sure it was safe, he then headed to the tack room, and first took out the saddle, which he quickly put on the horse's back. Then, he went to fetch the bridle, scratching his horse's neck afterward as he usually did to get him into the one piece of tack equipment he usually didn't like.

As soon as he was sure everything was ready, Loki quietly led the horse out of the building, closing the door silently behind them. After looking around once more for any sign of detection, he then led his horse further away from the building, and once he was sure that neither animal nor man could hear them, he leaped onto his horse. Soon, he was riding away into the darkness of the night, hoping to remain the elusive shadow he was so far for the rest of his planned journey, and to find the relief that seemed to elude him. Tonight, he was not a prince. He was simply a man longing to escape.

* * *

At around the same time, in a familiar house not far from the palace, only three of its inhabitants had gone to sleep. The fourth lay awake in dismay, sitting near the fireplace, rubbing her work-hardened hands together in the warm light of the small fire she'd managed to build. As the flames danced in front of her, Aska slowly began to see what appeared to be images in them, images of what seemed to be faces, of the people she knew and love. There was Regin, with her usual optimistic smile that always put a smile on Aska's face. There was Jarl, with his cocky but charming and brotherly attitude. But then, against all of Aska's expectations, the third face she thought she could see was that of Prince Loki. Him? A friend of hers? But there he was, with his fine-proportioned, kindly face, and soft eyes to match, eyes that, when looking directly into hers, made her feel so, alive, so, enthralled.

But the enthrallment was not to last. Trying to recover her senses, Aska turned away. Eventually though, she found that her eyes had a mind of their own, as, against her wishes, they turned back to the bright, burning fire. And yet, this time, no faces awaited her. In fact, the longer she looked into the orange flames, the more they seemed to evade her. In an attempt to find some relief, and hopefully, some sleep, she laid back on her mattress and tried laying on her side, her back to the warm fire which quickly began to act as a blanket. And yet, no matter how hard she tried, Aska couldn't fade into the comforting world of darkness, leaving her with an alternate one that seemed almost to beckon her.

This wasn't the first sleepless night she'd had, and thus, decided to do what she usually did when facing one. After quickly dousing the fire, which left hundreds of cinders for which she was named in its wake, Aska glanced back at the door, to make sure no one could see her, before reaching for the stone structure above the mantle, and pulling it open. Inside was where she kept her other clothes, specifically those that belonged to the Purple Phantom. For tonight, she would patrol the local area as the ghostly protectoress of Asgard, never mind the risks set before her.

In haste, Aska began to change clothes. She unraveled her braid, and brushed her fingers through her now free hair, before switching her usual nightgown for her purple and gold costume. She then pulled on her boots, followed by her gloves, and tucked her medallion and hilt of her sword inside her belt. Finally, she took up the most critical part of her alternate, more confident persona, such a simple piece of purple cloth with two holes cut in for the eyes, yet so important that to go without it would make the risk of captivity infinitely greater.

After making sure everything was in place, Aska looked one more time back at the door. No one and nothing greeted her, not even the shadow of someone behind the door. Now that she was certain it was safe, she opened the window next to the fireplace, and climbed out as quietly but as quickly as the could. Under the black expanse that was comforting as well as haunting, the girl clad in purple then began to make her way down the usual pathway to the stables, as solitary as a wild mare roaming alone.

As she walked almost hastily down the road though, her eyes and ears picked up the sight and sound of the leaves of the trees being caught up in the wind. Back and forth they swayed, appearing as though to be giant waving hands, and combining the ruffling sounds emerging from them to seem almost as if they were whispering to her. "You? Where are you going?" they seemed to ask. So ominous and unnerving was the scene before her that Aska broke into a run for the rest of her travel down the pathway, until she finally reached the familiar building which immediately smelled of all things having to do with horses.

But instead of heading towards the front door, for a moment Aska stood completely still, surrounded by the near complete darkness of the night, and the faint wind and chirping crickets she could hear all around her. For perhaps the first time while wearing this costume which seemed to make her more confident the moment she put it on, she felt like even the slightest unfamiliar sound could send her fleeing like a doe from a hunter. In an attempt to calm herself, she took a slow, deep breath, breathing in through her nose and then letting it out through her mouth. It worked, for a moment. And then it became clear that she'd have to think of something else.

Willing her legs to move, Aska walked forward one step at a time, not really carrying where they took her, until she found herself standing next to a tall, strong looking tree. Gazing upward, trying to find the top, she let out a sigh, and, before she completely knew it, began to sink slowly down to the ground until she was sitting with her back against the trunk. Believing she wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon, despite her plans, she pulled her legs to her chest, and encircled her arms around them, staring straight ahead as she allowed her restless mind to wander.

Only two weeks ago, everything, even if it left a lot to be desired, at least made sense, with her being a maid, going about her usual daily routine of work, simply being a nobody. But now, Aska would be surprised if she could think of anything to be certain of. From her mistress's strange behavior, to know that she was being searched for, and by one of Odin's sons… Oh! Confound his high-and-mighty Highness for being…what? So friendly? So kind? So unlike what she expected him to be, which unnerved her and comforted her at once? Part of her wanted to tell him, yet she knew that if he found out… Aska then began to feel an ache in her chest, an ache that longed to answer the question as to why she felt this way. Slowly, the ache strengthened, until it culminated in one, then two crystal clear tears which descended through her mask and down her cheeks. For a moment, she imagined herself angrily ripping the mask off, letting the whole realm see her face, but, common sense held her back.

Soon, it also began to encourage her to get back on her feet like she usually did. Before long, with a good amount of effort, Aska let go of her legs and then rested her hands on the ground. With a bite to her lip, she began pushing herself up, until she was finally found herself standing again. Deciding with even more effort to focus her mind back on tonight's journey, she walked forward again, slightly faster than before, walking toward what now appeared to be a valley she imagined she could leap into and lose herself in, until her good senses stopped her before going down hill, literally.

After shaking her head in an effort to rid herself of all distraction emotions, Aska then put her fingers to her lips, and let loose Dagny's whistle. It wasn't long before she heard her mare's signature neigh, and soon she couldn't help but smile, even it was small, as she then beheld the familiar horse cantering toward her. Dagny tossed her head in delight, but Aska quickly caught it with her hands in an attempt to calm her. "I know," she whispered, "We're going for a ride."

Within the next ten minutes, after finding and then putting Dagny's special tack on, Aska gripped the reins and mounted the horse. Even before she was completely on the saddle, Dagny began to walk forward. Quickly, Aska slowed her down, but then, seeing as there was practically nothing stopping her and her horse from going anywhere, except, perhaps, herself, she mentally brushed all her previous fear aside, and then urged Dagny into a canter. Not once did she look back as she made her way through the fields, and not once was she going to turn back before she intended. Tonight, the realm would know her only as the Purple Phantom.

* * *

_Reviews would be appreciated._


	8. Kiss From a Rose

_*A/N: "Kiss From a Rose" by Seal, one of my all-time favorite love songs and I thought it really fit._

* * *

**Not Your Average Cinderella**

Chapter 7 – Kiss From a Rose*

While riding at night had similarities with riding during the day, it certainly had its differences as well, as well as its dangers. It was too risky for Aska to travel the roads, lest anyone should see her, so she settled for the fields, even if she was not as familiar with them. Since the lack of light from the sky made it even more difficult, she decided it would be better to keep going straight, then when she made the decision to return home, she could simply turn around. She only hoped she wouldn't be out here for too long, and, while she was prepared, she also hoped not to come across any enemies.

Yet she rode Dagny at a smooth and steady canter, keeping her head up and her eyes in front, occasionally looking around for any sign of trouble. Aska was also ready to slow her horse the moment she heard something out of the ordinary. Yet, for most of her ride, all she heard was the sound of Dagny's hooves against the earth, the soft wind blowing through the trees, and the nightly music the crickets made. For the most part, the best she could do was keep her anxiety level to a minimum.

At one point though, her vision caught what appeared to be a bright light in the distance. Instantly, she tugged on the reins, and slowed Dagny down to a simple walk. Just then, when she saw orange sparks flying up to the sky, and heard what sounded like singing, Aska immediately took it to be a bonfire, with several people camped around it. For a moment, she wondered if she should seriously consider turning back. If these people caught her, they'd likely report her in an instant to Prince Loki for the reward. And yet, she couldn't help but consider other options. She looked ahead, and, at least from here, couldn't see any people walking back and forth from the house in front to the fire in the field behind. Even if the odds were clearly stacked against her, perhaps, perhaps she could try to walk past them.

After taking a handful of Dagny's mane, and taking a deep breath to calm herself, Aska tugged on the reins one more time, making the mare walk in the slowest, quietest way possible. Leaning forward in the saddle, she strained her neck and widened her eyes to make sure not even the smallest movement would escape her vision. She also bit her lip for good measure. Step by step, inch by inch, horse and rider made their way together forward. Aska closed her ears off to all sounds, save the thumping of her heart, not willing to lose any or all concentration.

Before long, she held her breath as she and Dagny were finally touched by the fire's revealing light. Her eyes remained locked on the small group of people gathered around it – about four or five of them she guessed. Aska could barely make out their faces from here, but she preferred to keep it that way. And though she also would have preferred not to hear it at all, her ears picked up the sounds of their voices singing to the tunes of old Norse folksongs. For a moment, she dared to smile slightly, as she recognized those songs, often humming or singing along to them herself while she did her daily chores. But her smile quickly vanished once she heard them cease to sing entirely, and when she heard one of them speaking in a normal voice.

"Now this is how I like to spend my nights," a man said, while he walked around the fire, making Aska bite her lip until she was sure she would cut it, "Why can't you appreciate something so simple?"

"We do appreciate them Father," a young, feminine voice assured him, "But why aren't we allowed to dream big?"

"If by big you mean the king's ball, I'd say your heads are in the clouds!" the man exclaimed. Despite the dire riskiness she was steeped it, it was all Aska could do to hold back a chuckle that was practically dying to escape.

"Oh you just wait Father!" another voice, perhaps that of the first girl's sister, exclaimed back, "Once the princes see us they'll come running!"

Laughter erupted from all of the people, silencing even more the sound of Dagny's hooves against the ground. Though, by now, and to her great relief, Aska realized that she and Dagny were getting close to getting past the group. She turned her head, preparing to breathe a long-awaited sigh, when, to her eye-widening, heart-stopping surprise, she heard one of her horse's hooves hit the base of a tree trunk. She froze before another second could pass. And almost just as immediately, to her ever-increasing dismay, she heard the first voice, that of the Father, ask, "What was that?"

Not daring to turn her head around to see if she'd been caught, Aska tightened her grip on the reins, dug her heels into Dagny's sides, and clicked her tongue in her ear, urging her quickly forward in a gallop as fast as an aggressive wind. She kept her eyes shut as she leaned forward in the saddle, immersing herself once again in the folds of the dark night she found that she missed rather greatly, and trying her best to ignore the inarticulate shouting she heard behind her. Only until she could no longer hear his voice did she open her eyes again, finding herself once again among fields similar to the ones she'd previously traveled through welcoming her with every stride. Yet, strangely, it did not comfort her as much as she'd hoped. Though she wasn't sure if any of the group had seen her face, they'd likely alert some of their neighbors to keep watch for a peculiar intruder dressed in purple and riding a pale horse, an intruder some would more than likely recognize upon hearing that description.

On and on she rode, her horse's mane waving against her hot, perspiring face, the high wind causing tears to form in her eyes. After a while though, Aska quickly looked behind her to make sure no one was pursuing her. Seeing no one coming her way from any direction, she finally slowed her horse to a canter, then a trot, and soon down to a walk. Strangely, she found she couldn't sit straight in the saddle. It seemed sleep was now trying to urge her to let it take her in its enticing embrace. Indeed, she began to imagine herself slipping off in exhaustion, and falling asleep right there in a bed of grass. But how could she, with possible danger waiting behind almost every hidden spot in sight? Truly, it was enough to make her want to cry, but her eyes remained dry, as if her own body wanted her to stay strong.

After what now felt like an eternity, Aska released a long overdue sigh, though one of fatigue rather than relief. "Oh," she breathed, "where do we go Dagny?"

So lost was she in her tired daze, that she was nearly oblivious to both the sight and sound of another lone horse and rider, one looking for relief much as she was, heading toward her much like he himself was a phantom of the night. Indeed, little did she know that soon she would receive perhaps the shock of the night – if not her life – once she encountered him, and discovered just who he was.

* * *

Loki had been riding for what felt like hours now, though, truthfully, he'd stopped keeping track of the time long ago. In fact, for the most part, he would have been content to let the darkness spirit him away to a place where he could be cleansed of his anxiety. He would have been surprised if he made it to see the following morning. Who knew? Perhaps the light of the breaking dawn would banish the dark feelings which filled him to the brim. One could only guess. For now, only the shadiness of obscurity surrounded him as he made his way through the lands of his realm, alone.

To keep his eyes busy as well as his mind, Loki had scanned the areas all around him as he cantered by, hoping not to spot any threats. He also hoped, though, that no one would spot him. One did not see the prince outside the palace without an escort of guards every day, and especially not every night. Yet another hindrance to the freedom he so craved. For a while, he even imagined simply going to the teleportation dome and traveling to another realm, where he could begin a new life, be seen as a simple man just like his father's subjects. But, where could he go? Though he'd obviously learned about them growing up, he wasn't familiar with any of the other eight realms, especially not Jotunheim. And how could he leave the ones he loved behind? No. As much as he wished, he couldn't abandon his duties and disappoint so sorely those he last wanted to disappoint.

Thus, he'd kept riding, wandering, journeying, not caring where he was going in this vast, nearly endless expanse of green ahead of him. For a while, he had decided to give himself and his horse a bit of a rest, pulling him to a halt at the slope of a small hill. While he permitted his horse to graze for a few minutes, Loki continued on his near aimless traveling, though he never strayed far from his steed. He allowed himself to stare at the sky, which, until now, had never seemed so huge, like he could be swallowed by it at any moment. And the countless stars that stretched across it, it was as though he could lift his hand and gather their most pure light in his hold. Indeed, he lifted his hand toward them, but he touched only empty air.

The whole night, he'd been seeking something to relieve him of his stress. And yet, the silhouette of the woman in purple and gold stayed in Loki's mind, almost determined to remain. Would she forever be just beyond his reach? Would he never know who she truly was? As he climbed back onto his horse and urged him once again forward, he began to despair of ever finding some sort of consolation. He began to wonder if he would simply melt away and become a shadow before the night was over. Even so, he continued riding, finding some sort of comfort in his stallion's smooth, cantering gait, occasionally looking down at the ground that became a green, almost hypnotizing blur beneath him. He even began to wonder if he should turn back home, as he was getting somewhat tired at last, when, all of a sudden, he almost instantly became aware that he was no longer alone.

But before he could wonder if this presence was dangerous, or even get a good look at it, what happened next nearly knocked the wind out of him. Before he was completely aware of it, Loki's horse reared and gave a frightened neigh. Immediately, Loki gripped the reins tightly and leaned forward slightly, shouting "Woah!" both in alarm and in an attempt to calm his steed. But what he saw in front of him very nearly made him fall out of his saddle in complete surprise – if not shock. Even in the dim light of the stars above them, he saw a pale horse, the rider of which was a woman, wearing a purple and gold costume, and a mask hiding her face. Here, right before his now widened eyes, was the last person he expected to see tonight – the Purple Phantom.

And apparently she was just as surprised – if not more so than he – to see him. Her horse too reared and gave her own call of alarm. But as for the rider herself, not only did Loki hear a great gasp escape her lips, he also thought he could see her own widened, startled eyes in the starlight. Such was the force of near electric shock when their gazes met, that it took Loki more than a moment to realize that she had urged her own horse to gallop away from him, leaving him to watch in disbelief as she rode off.

Fortunately, Loki quickly regained his senses. Trying to ignore the way in which they very nearly now ran wild, he called out to the woman in a calm but stern voice, "No! Wait!" But she didn't stop. In fact, he believed she went on even faster. In great haste, he weighed his options in his mind. He did not want to alarm this woman further, but now that he had seen her, after two weeks of tireless searching, a determined fire awoke within him, one that did not consider letting her escape be an option. So great was its flare, that Loki subconsciously gathered the reins in his hands, and, before he knew completely what he was doing, urged his horse forward in the direction of the masked woman who had eluded him for so long. Even when he had regained full awareness of his actions, he knew for certain that nothing was now going to stop him from catching up with her, not even himself.

* * *

Everything had happened so fast for Aska, that she almost didn't know what just happened. All she knew for sure was that, even though it was dark, she had seen the unmistakable face of none other than Prince Loki. And before she could even allow any thoughts of it to enter her mind, her instinct to flee had immediately kicked in, sending her now riding away from his Highness. She'd heard his call from behind, but all she could concentrate on was galloping even faster than she previously did to escape the man who so confused her.

Slowly, in the midst of her rapid heartbeat and sweat that had begun to travel down her forehead, questions began to form in her head, ones that demanded answers. What was the prince doing out here, and at this hour? Had he been searching for her? Could this even be a possible trap? Desperately, she tried to think of plausible answers, but none came to her. All Aska could do for the time being was to ride Dagny through this valley of literal and metaphorical black, where there was plenty of space to run, but almost not place to hide.

Before long, she could hear not just Dagny's hooves, but also the hooves of another horse behind her. Daring to turn her head around, Aska widened her eyes again when she saw that Loki was on her trail, galloping in an attempt to come beside her. And as soon as his eyes once again met hers, he waved his arm in the air in an attempt to get her attention. "Wait! Please!" she heard him call. But instead of listening to him, Aska turned back around and continued to ride as though she was on the wind itself, even hoping that it would carry her away from this place to another, more secluded location, where she could be alone again.

Eventually though, while she did arrive at another place that she wasn't entirely familiar with, she still heard Loki following her from behind. And to her heart-sinking dismay, ahead of her was the edge of a cliff over what she heard to be rushing waters of a flowing river below. There was a chasm leading to an opposite side, but it looked too large for Dagny to jump over. Aska imagined herself simply jumping into the ravine and then the river alone, allowing the current to sweep her away from his Highness, and perhaps even this realm, forever. And yet, some strong, unnamed force pulled at her heart, urging her silently but sternly not to be so reckless and daring – if not outright foolish, but to instead simply stop her horse near the edge like a sane person would.

It was not an easy choice. But soon, with a heavy sigh, and wondering if she would retain her own sanity after this, Aska decided to listen to the more practical side of her conscience. Raising herself in the saddle, she reluctantly tugged on the reins, slowing her horse down until she finally stopped a few feet from the precarious edge. She then, even more reluctantly, turned Dagny around, and looked up to see his Highness slow his horse to a halt not too far from her. For a moment, the two simply stared at each other in a near transfixed-like state, neither of them moving even the slightest, until Loki broke the uneasy silence, saying in an assuring voice, "It's alright. You don't have to run off. I mean you no harm."

For some reason, that last sentence caused Aska to raise a skeptical eyebrow, and even a slight smirk to form on her face. "Do you?" she asked.

Loki nodded. "I do," he replied. Then, thinking that what he intended to say came out wrong, he quickly recovered himself. "I do, mean you no harm, I mean," he said, trying not to stumble. Indeed, at what seemed the most inappropriate of times, Aska somehow managed to release a small chuckle at it. But nearly all of her humor faded when she heard what his Highness said next.

"I only wish to talk."

It was more the way he said it, rather than the words themselves, that made Aska nearly freeze. Something about his voice almost immediately made him seem like the most honest person she'd met, the safest person to be around, despite her rather highly mixed feelings toward him. A small hope in her wondered if it was so, but could she really trust him as much as part of her wanted to? While she was no stranger to risks, even this one made Aska think more than twice before she finally made her decision.

She looked away from Loki, not entirely sure what to make of what had just happened between them. Then, very slowly, she lifted her leg and was soon standing beside her horse before she looked once again back at his Highness and watched him dismount also. Not wanting to feel the nervousness of being approached by him, Aska herself walked toward him, trying to hold her head high, and wondering if she could retain her confident flare around this man.

Before long, the two were walking side by side, guiding their horses by the reins. But though she could feel his gaze settle on her, Aska did not return it, preferring rather to keep her eyes focused on the ground, feeling like she'd been caught doing something somewhat naughty. Even so, she eventually found the courage to look up at his Highness. And once her pair of blue eyes settled on his own green ones, somehow, she also found the courage to speak as well.

"If you don't mind me asking, what are you doing out here?" she asked.

Loki gave her a smile devoid of any true happiness. "I couldn't sleep, I'm afraid," he replied.

Hearing him say so, Aska couldn't help but raise her eyebrows in surprise. "Neither could I," she said.

"And, I apologize," he then said, "I didn't mean to frighten you. I didn't think I'd come across you at all."

After realizing that she understood, to an extent, Aska nodded. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have run off," she admitted, "I'm not usually such a coward."

Loki chuckled. For a moment, Aska frowned, until she found that the tone he took on was not a mocking one, but rather, one as nervous as her own should she have done the same. "Forgive me," he nonetheless said, "That was uncalled for."

A ghost of a smirk appeared on Aska's face, but it left as quickly as it arrived, for she knew what he was eventually going to say, and thought that she might as well stop running, and face it like the warrior she was. "I understand you've been looking for me?" she said.

Loki raised his eyebrows, as if he hadn't expected her to ask that. "Indeed, I have," he replied.

Though she already knew of his intentions, and felt anxious about once again hearing them from him, Aska still felt the need to ask. "Why?"

Loki didn't answer immediately. In fact, as Aska watched with both concern and interest, he looked away for a moment, looking as though he was gathering his senses together, preparing what he was going to say like he was about to make a speech. He then looked back at her, and said something different than Aska expected. "I never got to thank you, for saving my life."

He then frowned, looking like he was trying to make sense of something, before looking her straight in the eyes and asking, "Why did you help us that day?"

Now it was Aska's turn not to know what to say. She didn't even know if she had the answer to that question. She searched her mind for a reasonable answer, until she decided that this was probably a situation where it would be best to say the first thing that came to mind. "I was looking for answers, as I assume you were," she began, "I simply did what I had to do."

Loki nodded, and then silently urged her to continue. Aska was about to do so, when suddenly, it was as though a shot of frustration flashed through her mind without her being fully aware of it. "Do I look like the sort of person to let someone bleed out in the snow?" she then asked, giving voice to it.

Loki's eyebrows instantly shot up. "Oh no, of course not," he replied, shaking his head, "I simply…oh!" He then looked away and put his hand to his forehead, looking as though he'd made a fool of himself, and making Aska wonder if she herself had done so. But before long, he looked again at her, and said, "I just needed to know."

Aska nodded, until she realized Loki wasn't done, and let him continue. "I mean, it's not easy to do what you did," he said, "Not many have the skills you possess."

Suddenly, he stopped walking, inevitably making Aska stop as well. The two then gazed at each other, neither really knowing what to do about the mysterious but captivating person in front of them. All they could do was look into the windows of each other's beings, wondering what secrets lay beyond them, until eventually, Loki asked, "Who are you?"

Almost immediately, upon hearing that question she knew he would ask, Aska's senses returned to her, though her voice had to catch up before she could reply. "I can't say," she shook her head.

"Why?" Loki persisted.

Another flare of frustration arose within Aska, and this time, it was stronger. With an almost defiant tone to it, she quickly looked up at him with a now irritated face and asked, "Well what slayer of Frost Giants in their right mind would simply go about with their identity for all the realms to see?"

Just then, almost as if her feet had gained a mind of their own, she turned away from him, and began to walk away hastily. But before she could get far, Loki called out, "No! Wait!" Then before she could think to go faster, he took her hand in his, making her stop immediately, as if in alarm. Indeed, she was surprised not so much at Loki's touch, but at her reaction to it. His hand felt rather warm and secure, and he didn't try to force her back with his hold. For a brief moment, her eyebrows shot up, but then, slowly, she began to relax. Even more slowly, for perhaps the first time that night, Aska began to feel almost no desire to leave the prince. In fact, even if it was infinitesimally small, part of her wanted her to stay for a while longer.

Most of her frustration now having left her, Aska turned around to face Loki, and was somewhat surprised to discover that he did not seem the least frustrated himself at her attempt to try and leave again. Instead, what she saw on his face appeared to be, concern.

"I don't mean to upset you," he said, "But, I'd like to know."

Again, although Aska knew in the back of her mind what he was going to say, even further back, that same small part of her, which now seemed slightly larger, wanted to hear him say so with his own voice. "Why?" she asked, quickly preparing herself for what she knew would come.

Loki opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, he immediately raised his head up like a cat would when it picks up a peculiar sound, and widened his eyes as one would also. And apparently, he wasn't the only one to believe something was wrong, as both his horse and Dagny tossed their heads and whinnied nervously. "Shh!" he quickly said, quiet but also urgent, "I hear something."

Aska briefly wondered what he was talking about, or even if he was playing a trick on her, when suddenly, her ears too picked up the sound of something moving in the patches of trees around them, as though stalking them like a predator. "Me too," she admitted. Just then, the horses, evidently too frightened to stay, both neighed and cantered off away from their riders to find safety in the fields beyond.

Before Aska could ask if they should go after them, she then noticed Loki take out an ice knife, and before she could wonder why he had brought one, the sound of rustling leaves, which had now grown louder, urged her to quickly take up her medallion and hilt of her sword. Perhaps, at least for the moment, it was better that the horses had run off from here. They could look for them later.

Once she pressed the buttons, and her shield and blade of her sword appeared, she instantly held both up, and planted her feet in the ground, feeling her usual confidence as the Purple Phantom rise more and more with each passing second. She then looked around the area with a careful eye, daring the dangers in the dark to catch her off guard, when she saw, to her ever-increasing disbelief, one Frost Giant after another come out of hiding toward her and Loki.

With her confidence now eclipsed by confusion, Aska kept her warrior's stance, but remained perplexed as the red-eyed, blue giants came stalking like ravenous wolves toward them. Though she hoped it didn't show on her face, and she had seen scenes like this before, she still wondered wildly as to how these creatures kept sneaking past Heimdall to get into Asgard, let alone make their way through without being detected by anyone. What she did know for sure, though, was that a battle was approaching. Very well. She'd fought them several times before, and she could do so again. But tonight, it was soon revealed that the Frost Giants may have had a trick up their bare sleeves, one that Aska very nearly did not see coming at all.

"Well, well," a dark, feminine voice rose up seemingly out of nowhere, "Look at what we have here. Two little birds who've apparently strayed too far from their nests."

Aska looked one way, then the other, trying to find the source of that familiar voice, but finding none. "Where are you?" she heard Loki demand, "Show yourself!"

As the Frost Giants continued to make their way closer, the voice spoke again, sounding even more sinister now that neither Aska nor Loki knew where it came from. "I believe you and I have unfinished business, Lady Phantom," she said, the words practically dripping like water droplets from a faulty pipe, "Would you not like for us to settle it nicely and satisfactorily without such needless complications?"

Now that she had an idea of who that voice belonged to, Aska gripped tightly on her weapons, ready to attack at a moment's notice. "I would if you would come out and stop hiding like a coward!" she replied.

Right then, as though she just discovered she had the power to do so, the Frost Giants stopped approaching Aska and Loki. For a moment, Aska allowed herself to wonder if, even hope, that her demand had worked, when her hopes were quickly dashed once she heard the woman speak again. "Oh, why must we always do this the hard way?" she asked, as though she was not expecting an answer.

And before long, Aska discovered this to be true, for suddenly, two Frost Giants lunged forward toward Loki. She was about to cry out, to warn him, but was then reminded just how capable of a fighter his Highness could be. Before they could get their hands on him, Loki threw one, then two knives their way, striking them down almost instantly. Now that the rest of the Jotuns had even more fuel than was already emanating from them, all that was needed to set off the inevitable fight was a shout from the unseen woman, who seemed quite eager to fill the area with her wrath. "Attack!"

Before she even finished giving her battle-cry, the Frost Giants hurled themselves toward Loki and Aska. But both were well-prepared and ready. While Loki threw one knife, then another, Aska wasted no time using both her sword and shield. Ramming her sword into one Jotun, she hurled her opponent across the field, and then struck the next one who tried to attack her. She saw another one coming toward her, his mouth wide open as if ready to eat her alive, so she jumped over the fallen Jotun, spun around, and hit him with her shield, sending him to the ground. A fourth then leaped toward her, ready take her up in his bare hands, when she struck him down, and then slammed another she heard coming behind her with her shield. Spotting a sixth out of the corner of her eye, she immediately dove downward, kicking him off his feet.

But as she was standing back up again, Aska was instantly dragged to the ground and then pinned down before she could even think about trying to get up again. Her eyes then widened as they met those of the Jotun above her, which seemed to be burning with mad fury. He roared like a beast, making Aska wonder if he was going to devour her whole, when suddenly, he was hit in the shoulder with what she saw to be a knife. Recognizing it by its bright blue hue, she looked to see that it was Loki who had just helped her. Quickly, she turned on her side, but before she could help herself up, a pair of black gloved hands grabbed her by the wrist, and immediately pulled her up on her feet. Aska looked up to see Loki's face, just as alarmed as her own, when she caught the concern that flashed across his.

"You need to get out of here, now!" he insisted.

Though she appreciated his help greatly, Aska was not about to follow this particular order. "I won't leave you!" she insisted back, shaking her head. Before Loki could reply though, they heard instantly the sound of another Frost Giant headed their way, and both quickly ducked down, allowing him to fall down the slope in front of them. And that was when both realized that without Thor and the Warriors Three, this would be far from an easy fight. If they were going to survive it, they needed each other.

Loki threw a knife at yet another Jotun, while Aska ran back toward her sword and shield, ready to take them up again. But just as she was about to touch them, an invisible force which felt like a firm hand took her by one arm, followed by the other. Both were then twisted behind her back, and before she knew it, Aska was being forcibly rushed forward, past Loki, past the slope, and toward the cliffside she'd recently come across.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, though she felt as though she might as well be shouting to the wind, "Unhand me at once!"

Indeed, she might as well have shouted in vain, for the person behind her which she now believed to be the unseen woman kept shoving her relentlessly towards the foreboding chasm. Only when they were near the edge, and Aska's heart raced so fast it nearly burst out of her chest, did she hear again the familiar, ominous, aggressive, feminine voice in her ear. "As you wish."

With a dramatic flare, she then hurled her captor forward toward the edge of the cliff. Aska shut her eyes and opened her mouth to scream, but before she could feel the sensation of falling into the ravine, her gloved fingers touched what felt like dry earth. Instinctively, she dug them in, as though for dear life. The next thing she knew, she felt as though she were hanging from something merely by the strength of her hands. Though her eyes were desperate to remain closed, the need to know where she was, and what had just happened, won her over, and she slowly opened them.

At once, they immediately widened at the sight before her. She found that she, by the sheerest luck it had seemed, was holding firmly onto the edge of the cliff she had very nearly been thrown over, the river, rushing faster than she'd previously thought, lying several feet below her. The dizzying and alarming scene caused slight nausea to form within her, but it was quickly replaced with relief at having once again cheated death, followed by renewed anger at the one who had tried to see her to it.

Transferring the strength of that anger to her hands, Aska grit her teeth, and pulled herself up as hard as she could, until she had pulled her entire person onto the blessed solid ground. Once she had, she still could not see the one who had attempted to kill her, but she had a rather good idea of where she might be. After rising to her feet, Aska took in a deep breath, and then, after short but considerable mental preparation, charged forward. She then stretched her arms out, and with her greatest effort leaped forward, instantly tackling, as she had intended, the unseen woman to the ground.

Unfortunately, she seemed to have too much confidence in herself. While Aska did grab onto the woman, she tumbled several feet away from her, landing on her right side, and realizing immediately that more than one thing was wrong. She felt as though she was holding something. Yet, when she looked at her hands, she saw nothing. It felt like she was touching what felt to be fine cloth – of a cloak maybe? – but the material itself was nowhere to be seen. Slowly, and dramatically, Aska began to believe in the possibility that she was holding a fabled invisibility cloak. But if she had it in her hands, then that meant…

Aska quickly turned on her other side to finally look at the once invisible woman, and alarm instantly shot through her once she beheld someone she recognized instantly, never mind that she had seen her only once. It was the female Frost Giant she had fought in Jotunheim, the one who almost killed Loki, and the one who just now almost killed her. Long hair even blacker than the night sky fell across her face, but Aska could still see her ruby red eyes, locked on her with an angry vengeance. Slowly, she raised herself up, causing Aska to do the same, until both began staring each other down, daring the other to make the next move.

Even so, an unanswered question nagged at Aska, until she had no choice but to finally ask it, even if she might not receive the answer she wanted, or even one at all. "Who are you?"

The blue woman clad in a brown, ragged, torn dress, did not reply quickly. Instead, she kept her gaze focused on her enemy, when Aska noticed a slight smirk cross her face. "I could ask you the same question," she said.

Aska opened her mouth to speak, when her voice was suddenly blocked by the now unfamiliar sound of near silence. She didn't dare turn her gaze away from the Jotun woman, but her ears were now slowly becoming filled with the noises of moaning and groaning. Surely not from Loki, so, from the Frost Giants then? Deciding that she could probably use this to her advantage, a small smirk made its way across Aska's own face.

"You could, but I believe you're the one with a disadvantage now," she said, gesturing toward what she was sure was the sight of the woman's now ruined army. Indeed, she had to try with considerable effort to hold back a chuckle that threatened to escape, once she saw the Jotun's clearly dismayed face at the scene before her.

But when the woman looked back at her with what she instantly recognized as barely restrained fury, Aska's sense of humor immediately fled from her. She watched as the woman bent down to pick up her cloak, which she now realized that she had dropped, and once again wrapped it around her, concealing most of her upper body from plain view, her unblinking eyes never straying away from her own.

"Very well," she said through a few gritted teeth, "You may win tonight, but our business is far from over!"

Though her look was clearly one that was furious, Aska nonetheless managed to narrow her eyes at her, almost inviting her to attack her here and now. "Just get out of my sight, and out of my realm," she then said.

The woman in front of her continued to remain still for a short while, slowly beginning looking as though the heat of her fury might be cooling, until she finally said in a softer, but still menacing voice, "You will soon pay for crossing my path."

So ominous was the effect on Aska, that she couldn't help but raise her eyebrows with slight alarm. Still, she watched as the woman turned in the direction of her once great army of fellow Frost Giants, and called out in a way similar to that of a wolf's signaling howl, "Retreat!"

With an air as fine as that of an aristocrat, which Aska was somewhat surprised at, the Jotun woman briskly walked away, almost leaving a trail of her dark presence in her wake. Aska turned around and continued to watch as she eventually joined the rest of her makeshift group of warriors, who by now had mostly gotten to their feet, and began to follow their leader away from the ones who somehow managed to defeat them single-handedly, their heads looking towards the ground like dogs on their way to receive punishment from their masters. With an unblinking gaze, Aska kept watching as they made their way further and further away, until they seemed to become like large blue spots on the horizon, her eyes remaining narrow on the ones who tried to harm her and Loki.

Loki! Where was he? Immediately feeling great concern, Aska looked desperately around, until she saw a lone black shadow standing at the top of a small sloping hill. In instant haste, she rushed toward him, and he toward her, her sword and shield in his hands, until they finally stood before one another.

"Are you alright?" Aska asked, nearly breathless.

"Fine," Loki assured her insistently, "I'm perfectly fine." Then with the same concern, he asked, "You?"

"Just the same," Aska nodded, a faint smile trying to cross her lips. Even so, Loki continued to frown. He quickly handed her back her sword and shield, which she just as hastily made disappear by pressing their buttons before putting them away, when she suddenly heard him say in a rather urgent tone, "We need to get back to the palace."

Instantly, the first word stood out to her, causing Aska to widen her eyes at him and ask, "We?"

"Yes," Loki nodded, "It's far too dangerous for both of us out here."

"Wait!" Aska exclaimed. Though she knew the major reason for why he wanted to take her there, she quickly offered an excuse. "Your father would not permit it."

"I can change his mind," Loki insisted. Then, before Aska could speak again, he took her by the hand, which now felt only rough and forcible to the touch, and tried to pull her forward. But Aska was not going to be so easily dragged to the last place she wanted to be. Though she knew she might get into even more trouble than she was already in, she yanked her hand free from Loki's, causing his alarmed face to meet her own frustrated one.

"No," she said, agitated but trying to keep her tone firm and polite, "With all due respect your Highness, I can't come with you."

"But why?" Loki all-but begged her. Indeed, for a split second, it seemed almost endearing. "Don't tell me you have a safer haven?"

Hearing that, Aska raised her eyebrows at the idea that instantly came into her head. "As a matter of fact, I do," she affirmed him. Then, strangely, feeling the need to once again know that sensation of feeling his Highness's once warm, soft hand against her own, Aska gently took it in hers. Slowly, as she began to feel it again, along with a nervous herd of butterflies now gathering in her stomach, she looked up at the prince, who returned her gaze with his own greatly concerned one.

"I promise you, no harm will come to me," she said as though they were dear friends, although, it wasn't that hard to imagine.

Loki only looked at her with a near blank expression for a while, as if he did not know what to say, until it seemed as though he found his voice again. "Then, I will hold you to your promise, and, in return, I will promise the same," he said.

Aska nodded, knowing she could agree with that. She was also about to turn away, to go and find her horse, when Loki pulled her hand slightly. Immediately, she looked back, wondering what he could possibly want now, when she heard him say a few words that just about made her stand completely still before him.

"But if you have to leave," he said, "then, you must say goodbye."

She had heard a similar saying only hours earlier. And yet, hearing it being spoken to her, and in such an amiable manner, made Aska's heart begin to flutter in a way much like that of a butterfly's wings. Indeed, an unnamed desire seemed to plant itself within her, growing slowly but surely, until, until her eyes became locked on his. Once she was now focused firmly on the face set before her, something, a silent voice it seemed, told her that she had indeed seen this face, especially those soft, kind eyes before. Not just this afternoon, or even that fateful day two weeks before. No. She had known him for so much longer than that. But, really, had she? It was like a small candle in the back of her mind had been lit, shedding light on her unknown past, though clearly not enough to satisfy her. She was sure she'd known him in an intimate, personal way, and yet, she still couldn't recall when.

But, eventually, none of that, indeed, none of what had just happened seemed to matter in the next few minutes, which quickly began to feel like hours. All Aska knew – at least, she thought she knew – was that their heads were leaning toward each other, closer and closer, until, before either of them knew it, their lips were touching, and they were kissing.

For most of her known life, Aska had heard of sparks flying once one kissed the one meant for them. And truly, while she did feel the almost instant fire of passion in planting her lips on Loki's, even more so, it felt as if she was being showered in the dust of the countless stars watching over them. Keeping her eyes closed as she continued pressing her lips against his, all of Aska's previous anxiety seemed to fade away, being replaced by near euphoria at the sensation of being kissed for the first time in her memory. The candle in the back of her mind continued to burn, until she was completely sure that she knew this prince in her unknown days. Such feelings could not be mere coincidence. There had to be more to the story. There had to be more to all of these intense emotions she had never known before.

* * *

The moment Loki realized that he was actually kissing the one whom he so desperately wanted to find, even though her mask was still on, he didn't know if he could ever escape from the intense passion that now came over him. Slowly, he began to wrap his arms around her back, and he could only smile in his mind as he felt her arms wrap around his neck. If his love for this woman – if he even dared to call it that – had been blossoming before, as his mother once said, then now it had bloomed into a vibrant, radiant rose. The longer he kissed her, the more he wanted to stay lost in it. After wandering aimlessly searching for the relief that had eluded him much like she had, now that she was here, returning the same affection he longed to bestow on her, it was almost too wonderful to comprehend.

Before long though, his ears picked up the sound of not one, but two sets of hooves cantering toward them. Loki ignored the sound, but, to his dismay, it appeared that the masked woman didn't do the same. As quickly as they had begun, their kissing had ceased, and for a moment, both could only stare at each other in near disbelief over what had just happened.

Even so, it wasn't long before the Purple Phantom seemed to regain her senses. When she saw that her own pale horse had found her way back to her rider, she looked back at him, and gave him the warmest, most pleasant smile he'd ever seen her give.

"I bid you good night, your Highness," she said.

So contagious was her smile, that Loki couldn't help but return it. He then watched as the elusive woman in purple then strode over to her horse and then mounted her, until, suddenly, an urgent and important thought emerged in his memory, one that practically begged him to ask her one more question. "Will you be coming to the masked ball?" he asked.

The woman, whose smile had now slightly faded, but still was nonetheless there, continued to look at him for only a short while, until she replied, "Perhaps." A satisfactory enough answer, and the only one Loki would get. For before he could say anything else, the Purple Phantom – the ghost whom he somehow managed to kiss – then urged her horse into a canter, leaving him to watch as she rode away into the darkness of the night, the stars of which only seemed to shine even more brilliantly than before, now that Loki had once again seen this most valiant of women, whom he hoped desperately to see again soon.

* * *

_Reviews would be appreciated._


	9. A Web of Deceit

**Not Your Average Cinderella**

Chapter 8 – A Web of Deceit

The following days passed even slower than before for both Aska and Loki, and this time, neither of them had it completely easy. The two tried to keep to their respective tasks of usual housework and helping with preparations for the upcoming ball, but for both, especially Aska, if the days had seemed like months only previously, now they felt like years. Everyday while she did her usual chores of cooking, cleaning, and anything else Ylva had in mind, Aska remained a silent hostage to the unfamiliar, yet strangely nice – even, at times, blissful – feelings that remained in her mind ever since that most momentous night, when she not only fought alongside Prince Loki once again, but also somehow kissed him.

What was she thinking? This was the question she had been asking herself day after day. How could she, a mere peasant girl, have managed to receive a kiss from the son of the mighty Odin? And furthermore, how could she possibly entertain the notion of his Highness actually wanting to marry her once he found out who she was? True, she was somewhat used to Ylva and Brynja being the way they were toward her, with their near constant demands and almost never thanking her for them. But to suddenly receive such treatment by someone she had come to care for so much – it was too much to bear. Even she might not be immune from the heart-wrenching lows of such a betrayal.

And yet, almost every night since, as Aska sat by the familiar fire which in the past managed to warm her on even in the coldest of evenings, sometimes, in the bright, burning flames which moved almost as if they were themselves alive, she thought she could see the prince's face. So kind, so warm, so friendly it was. Indeed, had she not realized at the right time that it was a trick of her mind, she very well might have reached her hand toward the image in the fire in an attempt to touch one of his cheeks. But of course, once she knew that she was only seeing things, and that these bizarre feelings might also be a drifting mind's trick, she wanted nothing more than to be able to fall into the fire without burning, but to be purified of this nonsensical dreamlike state instead.

Unfortunately, the strange state of her heart lingered like a soft but unbreakable presence within her, day after day, night after night. Such was how she spent the next few days which slowly turned into weeks, until, before she completely knew it, the day before the masked ball arrived.

That afternoon, Aska was pressing her lips together in frustration, for she was now attending to one of her easier chores on a particularly difficult day. Easy because it only required taking down the day's laundry from the clothes line in the backyard after it all had dried. Difficult because the day's weather seemed to be out of her favor, as the winds came at her from all directions like birds that did not know how to fly, which only meant chasing after runaway clothes like a silly madwoman at the risk of dirtying them once more. At least Ylva and Brynja were not here. Had they been witnesses to this otherwise embarrassing scene, she was more than certain that they would never let her hear the end of their near tormenting fun-making.

But this afternoon, Aska was lucky. As this was the day before the ball Odin was holding, Ylva and Brynja had decided to go together to the afternoon tea his queen had invited them to. They had left about an hour earlier, and hopefully wouldn't be back for another. At least by then she would have all of the clothes off of the line and back in their rightful places – that is, if both they and the blasted wind would be willing to cooperate.

In fact, she was unpinning the last piece of clothing, a long white shift worn underneath dresses, when it was suddenly caught by yet another gust, and swiftly sailed away from her grasp. Aska had to bite her lip to keep from muttering something naughty, but she nonetheless took off after it anyway. "Oh, come back here you confounded…thing, you!" she exclaimed, as though it would actually help her in catching it. Eventually though, after a few unsuccessful attempts, she finally managed to snatch it back into her hold. But just then, seeing as the pile of clothes in the last basket looked as though they might be getting loose, Aska rushed over to it and quickly stuffed the shift inside before hastily picking it up, and then hurrying as fast as she could into the house.

She slammed the door shut, quickly shutting out the wind with it, and leaned on the wall beside it in order to press her head against her hand and catch her breath. But her relief at escaping the more than agitating weather was short-lived, as she then she remembered that her job wasn't done. Letting out a sigh of frustration, she held the basket against her hip and ventured out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

Aska was wondering whether or not she'd regain her relief once this chore was done, when suddenly, she heard three knocks on the front door once she made her way into the foyer. A puzzled expression quickly crossed her face. _Who could that be? _she thought. She and the others – at least, to her knowledge – hadn't been expecting anybody. Nonetheless, she moved to put her basket down. But apparently she wasn't the only one who heard the knocking, as she then heard Regin running down the stairs as fast as she could.

"I'll get it!" she said. For a moment, Aska wondered whether she should even try to get to the door first. Not only was Ylva not here, but Regin seemed rather eager to beat her to it. Perhaps she was expecting someone. But who? Her question was quickly answered though as she watched Regin open the door. There before her stood what appeared to be a young woman, a messenger perhaps, though she wore a maid's dress similar to Aska's.

"Yes?" Regin asked, "Can I help you?"

"Is this the home of Lady Ylva?" the woman asked.

"Yes," Regin nodded, almost excitedly, Aska noticed.

"Then, she would be pleased to know that her packages have arrived," the woman said, "May we bring them in?"

"Oh yes, of course!" Regin nodded again, even more enthusiastically than before, "Thank you!"

Aska continued to watch as the woman nodded back, turned around, and snapped her fingers. With now curious eyes, Aska then saw Regin help the woman get inside the house four medium-sized woven baskets much like the one she was just carrying. One by one they placed them at the foot of the stairs. Such was her interest with which she watched them that she forgot to offer her assistance as she otherwise usually would have done. Those baskets obviously carried some rather important things, but why were there four instead of three? Could the fourth one possibly be for her?

"Thank you for bringing them," Regin told the woman once they were done, "I'll be sure to let my mother know."

"And a pleasure it was doing business with her," the woman said in response, "Good day."

Regin nodded, and as she closed the door, Aska let a slight smirk sneak past her lips, as she could only wonder how anyone could have a pleasure doing business with her perfectionist mistress. But just then, as she was picking up her basket of laundry again, she noticed that Regin was heading towards the baskets, and remembered this time to offer help. "Are you going upstairs?" she asked Regin.

Regin turned to her with a curious face and asked in return, "You want to help me with these baskets?"

"Of course," Aska replied, when she suddenly reminded herself that those weren't the only things she had to get upstairs, "Let me take care of this first though, and then I'll come down to help."

Regin nodded and then stepped aside to let Aska go up the stairs. Once she was at the top, she made her way to Ylva's room – which she was also never allowed into unless she was permitted or doing some chores – and set the basket down on the bed where she would fold the clothes and put them away later. She then went back to the stairs and saw that Regin already had two of the baskets in her arms. Though Aska couldn't help but release a slight chuckle at the sight, she walked briskly down the stairs and then took up the other two baskets in her own arms. The two then made their way to the next floor together, and set the packages down once they were inside Ylva's room. Though they weren't particularly heavy, that didn't stop Aska from speculating on what was inside.

"What are these for?" she asked Regin.

"Didn't I tell you?" Regin said with a confused look, "These are the dresses we're wearing to the ball tomorrow. Mother had them made by the local seamstress."

"Oh, oh of course, I remember now," Aska nodded in understanding. But suddenly, her eyes caught a mischievous expression slowly sneaking onto Regin's face.

"What do you say we have a look at them?" she then asked her.

Aska raised her eyebrows. Could she take the risk of stealing a glance at Ylva's and Brynja's dresses? Something in the back of her mind told her they might eventually find out, but something else told her she might never get an opportunity like this. Without being completely aware of it, a sneaky smile of her own made its way across Aska's lips.

"Well, I'm not terribly crazy about fashion," she admitted, "But, why not?"

Regin only chuckled in response, and, in an uncharacteristically daring move, Aska was the first to open the package closest to her. Immediately, she beheld what appeared to be lace across what looked to be the neckline of the dress. And before she even had a full look at it, she instantly knew whose it was by the color.

"Must be Ylva's," she concluded, "It's black – as usual."

"Open the next one!" Regin urged her.

Now that she was caught up in the excitement, Aska wasted no time putting the lid on the first package, and opening the second one. This one contained a pale peach colored dress with golden glitter across the neckline, and short, poof-shaped sleeves. Somewhat elegant, but otherwise silly looking.

"Easily Brynja's," Regin said before letting out a chuckle.

"Who else?" Aska snickered in agreement. Even so, she quickly put the lid on this package as well, not wanting the think of the consequences should either Brynja or Ylva eventually find out. But now, fortunately, only two packages remained.

"This one must be mine," Regin said eagerly as she reached for the one closest to her. Aska watched with even more intense interest than before as she tossed the lid aside, and her eyes unexpectedly widened at the exact same moment Regin's did.

The two also let out the same short gasp as she then pulled out her dress. It appeared similar to Brynja's, but had far more class. Silver glitter adorned the neckline and the bodice was made of teal velvet, Regin's favorite color. The sleeves, made of sparkling, translucent material of the same color, descended down to the knees. And the skirt, made of the same material as the sleeves, seemed to flow when Regin placed the dress against herself and couldn't help but twirl in a full circle.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"Absolutely lovely!" Aska smiled.

"Do you think Jarl would like it?" Regin then asked, a slightly dreamy look in her eyes which caught Aska somewhat off guard.

It took her more than a moment to reply, "He would think it perfect."

Regin smiled greatly, as that was exactly what she was thinking. But as she folded the dress and put it back inside, Aska's eyes drifted over to the mysterious fourth box, which had captured her attention from the moment she saw it. "What about that one?" she asked, pointing at it.

"Oh," Regin raised her eyebrows when she saw what she was referring to. She then quickly rushed over to it, and she managed to barely contain the laughter Aska could see threatening to erupt from her lips, she replied, "Don't tell Mother, but I had a dress made for you too."

Aska's eyebrows shot up instantly as she said in surprise, "You didn't!" So that package was for her after all. But how did Ylva not know?

Nonetheless, Regin kept her naughty smile as she let out another chuckle. It proved to be so charming that Aska couldn't help but return it.

"Shocking girl," she scolded her in a fake manner.

"But you must see it!" Regin exclaimed, waving it off.

Despite her previous humor, Aska suddenly regained her intense curiosity as Regin opened the final package, the one that contained her own ball gown, a gift she never imagined she could receive. And indeed, her expectations were not only met, but very likely surpassed, as her eyes widened even more so than before and her mouth fell open as she beheld for the first time the most beautiful dress she'd ever seen.

"Oh, my," she then managed to say in near disbelief, "Regin."

Feeling the urge to touch it, to hold it for herself, Aska took it carefully from Regin, who was almost as amazed as she was. She then stood in front of Ylva's vanity mirror, and pressed the dress against her own less-than-plain one she was already wearing, marveling at how even more beautiful it seemed.

The low neckline and the girdle around the waist were made of purple and silver glittering material, and embroidered to resemble flowers. The pale-yellow bodice sparkled in the front, and the girdle had two bands of translucent, purple material descending from it. The skirt, also a pale-yellow, was painted purple at the waist and at the ends. The purple coloring at the ends curled up slightly, almost as if to resemble tree branches, each with a diamond at the end. And as a finishing touch, the sleeves, the same color as the bodice and skirt and sparkling with thousands of tiny gems, reached down to the knees much like the sleeves on Regin's dress did.

Seeing the more than surprised, almost speechless look on Aska's face, Regin asked, "Do you like it?"

For a brief moment, Aska seemed to have lost her voice, so enchanted was she by this dress. She quickly remembered that she had one though, and replied, "Oh, Regin, I've never seen anything so, amazing!"

Regin chuckled happily, as she once again knew what Aska was going to say. But suddenly, realization donned on her face as she remembered another important detail. "Wait!" she exclaimed, "I have something else for you!"

"What?" Aska asked as she quickly turned around. She then saw Regin take out from inside the basket another, smaller one. Curiosity once again aroused her, and she carefully folded the dress and put it inside the larger basket, her eyes remaining on the small one. "What's in there?" she asked.

"Just a moment," Regin assured her as she opened it. Once she did, Aska watched as she quickly reached her hands in, but then slowly took them out, now that she was holding a somewhat lovely, but also rather odd pair of objects. She was about to ask what they were, when Regin, who seemed to have read her mind, said, "Glass slippers!"

"Wha-, glass?" Aska asked, her confusion having returned to her. She admitted though, the "slippers" were almost as pretty as the gown. They too were a pale-yellow, with a flower and a small set of diamonds on the toe-end of each. Aska was about to suggest otherwise, but it quickly became clear to her that they were indeed made of glass.

"The seamstress suggested them to me," Regin explained, "She's friends with the glassblower."

"But, surely they'll break!" Aska objected.

"Oh she assured me they wouldn't," Regin shook her head, "She said they're made of the strongest glass possible."

Aska raised her eyebrows again, more softly this time, though why anyone would wear slippers made of glass was beyond her. But soon, as she continued to gaze as the wondrous slippers, and then at the dress that she was sure was too lovely for her, her smile slowly began to fade, turning into a grim frown. As the reality of the ball being only a day away sank deeper inside her, so too did the reality that even if she did look as beautiful as she admittedly desired in that dress, it would not change who she was underneath it, it would not change the truth. She then breathed a heavy sigh, and shook her head sadly.

"I can't go," she said.

"What?" Regin asked, clearly surprised, "What do you mean you're not going?"

"I know what you're going to say," Aska told her, "that Prince Loki is going to be there, and once he sees me he'll trip over himself trying to get to me."

Regin widened her eyes and nodded slowly in response, as that was almost exactly what she was going to say.

"But, think about it Regin," Aska continued, nearly imploring her, "Once he finds out who I am and, what I am, there's no possible way he'll even think about continuing his relationship with me."

Now Regin frowned too, though it was more one of pity rather than sadness. And being the hopeful, helpful one she was, she couldn't help but put her hand comfortingly on Aska's shoulder. "If he really loves you, why would he care?" Regin asked, "So what if he's a prince? And besides, you may not be a peasant after all."

"But I still can't remember hardly anything of my former life!" Aska exclaimed as she shot to her feet, "What, do you suppose I can just magically regain my memory after five years?"

"You can try," Regin suggested, raising an eyebrow.

At that, Aska could only blink at her. At first, she wanted to protest again, but just as she was about to, the memory of pressing her lips against his Highness's in the strangely comforting darkness of that night, the memory of her heart beating as fast as a hummingbird's wings as she did so, and the image of appearing before him in that most amazing of dresses, dancing with him, kissing him once again…all of them filled her mind until she could deny it no further. No matter how much she pushed it away, the desire remained. She wanted to see him again, she wanted to hear his voice again, she wanted to feel that familiarity that emanated from him whenever she was around him.

Perhaps, perhaps there was more to all of this than met the eye.

Pressing her lips together, Aska closed her eyes, and closed her ears to all possible sounds as she began to implore herself, _Think Aska. Think really hard. There must be something you can remember before this life, something that will bring you back. _She formed her hands into fists, burying her nails into her palms, so intense was her concentration, her need to know who she once was. And yet, after a few moments which felt like hours, she opened her eyes again and, looking at Regin, threw her hands in the air.

"Nothing!" she exclaimed.

Regin's once hopeful face quickly disappeared. All she could now do was watch as Aska turned and headed toward the vanity mirror, her head down and her eyes to the floor. "I suppose it's going to take a miracle for me to recall anything at all," she then said. But then, as she became only one step away from the mirror, all of a sudden, out of nowhere it seemed, Aska felt as though she slipped on something. Instantly, she let out a cry of surprise, and fell forward until she managed to catch herself by grasping onto the vanity. Incredibly, none of Ylva's potions and such fell to the floor and broke, otherwise she would have been in monumental trouble.

"Aska!" Regin immediately exclaimed. She then rushed over and helped her good friend back onto steady feet, but it soon became clear that neither knew what just happened. "What was that?" she asked.

"I don't know," Aska shook her head as she then looked down again, "It felt like I stepped on something, but, nothing was there…" Her voice trailed off suddenly, as somehow, curiosity once again set off within her. But now, instead of remaining a simple spark, it was slowly fanned into a growing flame, as Aska remembered another important event that took place on that night only two weeks ago, other than being kissed by his Highness. Something was definitely out of sorts here, and she intended to find out what.

She did not have to wait long though. Aska knelt down and reached her hand out, feeling for anything other than the hard, polished wood. Soon, her fingers tingled as she finally had her suspicions confirmed, and touched what felt like velvety fabric. She reached out her other hand, and once she received that touch a second time, she curled her hands into fists again, and immediately knew she was clutching something. As soon as she knew she had a good hold, Aska pulled on it carefully but sternly, until she was holding what appeared to be a dark red cloak in front of her. Instantly she thought it odd, as this was not at all what she was expecting, but she jumped as soon as she heard Regin give a startled gasp.

"Aska!" she exclaimed, "Your body's disappeared!"

"What?" Aska asked. Quickly, she turned the cloak around to have a look at the other side, and her eyes widened like saucers once she beheld the same sight Regin claimed to see. Now her body was the one that disappeared. Aska turned it around again, but this side remained opaque and dark red like it was before.

"It's, it's an invisibility cloak," Regin then realized.

Aska nodded slowly in agreement, trying to take all of this sudden information in quickly. But just when it seemed that she just about had it all in her head, her eyes caught something white on the bottom left corner of the visible side of the cloak. She looked instantly, and her eyebrows shot up even faster at what she saw.

"Look!" she urged Regin, "Look at this."

She then turned it so Regin could see, pointed at the odd little symbol on the corner of the cloak, and watched as her eyebrows too shot up in great surprise. "What is that?" she asked, sounding more confused than she had probably ever been in her life. But since she herself had that question in mind, Aska looked more carefully at the symbol. Slowly, once she recognized it, her mouth began to gape open, and she blinked once, then twice, at what she believed she'd figured out. Clearly, someone was trying to shove this cloak – or rather, hide it – underneath the vanity, and Aska had a feeling she knew who it was who tried to do so.

"No," she breathed.

"What?" Regin asked.

Slowly, somewhat hesitantly, Aska turned to face her. As she looked at her concerned face, she decided she must choose her words carefully, as she did not know exactly how Regin would take it once she heard her theory. She breathed a sigh in order to prepare herself, and then forced the words out of her mouth.

"Regin," she said in her calmest voice, "I believe, your mother may be working for the Frost Giants."

"What?!" Regin instantly asked, clearly shocked as Aska imagined she would be. Indeed, she herself could hardly believe what she was saying. But considering her mistress's strange behavior and the fact that she'd felt unusually somewhat bizarre around her lately, Aska didn't think there could be any other reasoning. She'd remembered those rather frightening red eyes, and the almost noble air that Jotun woman put on that night, and now that she put all loose ends together, it very much seemed to make sense.

"What makes you think so?" Regin asked, clearly more than anxious to know.

Deciding that she might as well at least try to explain it to her, but without important but unrelated details, Aska took another deep breath before she finally told her. "Well, about two weeks ago, I went out on patrol for the night, and, I ended up getting into a fight with a Jotun woman in an invisible cloak, just like this one."

"And?"

"And since we found a cloak much like that one in here, almost like it had been purposefully hidden, that might mean…"

"My own mother," Regin then said, not quite interrupting her since Aska once again seemed to have lost her voice, "has allied herself with Asgard's enemies." She then put her hand to her forehead, and Aska watched as she quickly found a seat on the end of the bed, and clearly had even more trouble than she did processing such life-altering information. "I'd always known her to be a bit rough around the edges but, I never thought she'd do this!" she nearly exclaimed.

Indeed, Aska feared she might begin to hyperventilate. In an effort to compensate for her now seemingly irresponsible actions, she then pointed out, "Wait a minute. We still might not know for sure. We could question her once she comes back."

"And how do you think she'll respond?" Regin asked, believing Aska would already know the answer.

"True, she might deny it or even lie at first," Aska nodded, "But, once we present our evidence, she won't be able to say anything other than the truth!"

"Well, in that case, I suppose I might have to hide our dresses," Regin spoke up, "I doubt we'll be allowed to attend the ball after today."

"Oh, pardon me but could you please forget the ball for once?" Aska asked, her frustration quickly reaching its peak, "If you must hide them, go ahead, but please, let me think!"

"Alright, alright," Regin quickly nodded nervously. Though once she went off in search of a hiding place, Aska immediately felt sorry, as she hardly ever acted that way in front of one of her closest friends. But still, she did have to try and figure out how things might go once Ylva and Brynja returned home. She knew that she could expect a shouting match if not an all-out battle, but one plaguing issue stood out more than any other. Now that she'd found the ironically exposing invisible cloak, could it also be possible that Ylva knew about Aska's identity as the Purple Phantom? It seemed rather likely. And if she did know, what could this mean for her? What would Ylva do? Well, whatever the outcome, whether or not she knew about Aska's secret identity, Aska knew that she'd have to carefully plan her words, and her actions, in the future to come.

* * *

Meanwhile, as momentous secrets were being discovered at their very own home, at the palace in the center of Asgard, which was otherwise bustling with activity in preparation for the upcoming ball, in an outside room overlooking the realm, Ylva and Brynja were waiting, not so patiently, for the queen, as they had done so for the last half-hour. Both were wearing their usual tea dresses. While Ylva's was black and slightly plain, Brynja wore one as red as her cheeks were becoming. Not only had she not seen Prince Loki yet, but sitting still for such a long period of time was not part of her daily routine.

"Can't we ask for tea yet?" she asked her mother with gritted teeth.

"You know we're not supposed to until her Majesty arrives," Ylva replied with the good patience of a cat.

"But it's been far too long since we've arrived!" Brynja nearly sneered, "I thought the queen was less rude than this!"

Ylva's eyebrows shot up instantly at her stubborn-as-an-ox daughter. "Bite your tongue!" she quickly said, "You will behave like a lady willingly or I will take you outside and beat it into you!"

Brynja immediately raised her eyebrows back, not only because she had been threatened with such a punishment, though, by now she had almost come to expect it, but because she also she saw a finely dressed woman, somewhat older than her mother, with her long red hair swept in a flowing braid, now heading their way, with two other finely dressed younger ladies behind her. Brynja instantly knew who she was looking at, and just as quickly sat as straight as she could. Once Ylva saw her reaction, she turned toward what she was looking at, and mimicked her preparatory actions, obviously wanting very much to impress the woman who had thought to invite her old acquaintance for an otherwise routine event.

"My dear Lady Ylva!" the queen smiled instantly, "I'm so pleased that you could join me for tea!"

The woman in black quickly returned the smile and replied, "As am I my queen! It is always a pleasure to receive such a generous invitation from an old friend."

"And is this who I think it is?" Frigga asked once she saw the young woman sitting beside her.

"Indeed," Ylva nodded, "my elder daughter, Brynja. She has grown much, has she not?"

"Very much so!" Frigga admitted, "Such a lovely young lady she's become. How do you do child?"

"Very well, thank you, your Majesty," Brynja smiled and said in a manner befitting that of the young lady she'd been trained from childhood to be, "And might I say you yourself look rather lovely this afternoon?"

"Why thank you, my dear. And, do please forgive me for keeping you waiting," Frigga then said as she took her seat next to Ylva.

"Oh it was no trouble at all," Brynja quickly spoke up, though Ylva silently knew that such a statement was a lie.

"Well then, shall we have tea at last?" Frigga then asked, "I believe you two have waited long enough?"

"Indeed," Ylva nodded, "Now that you mention it I am quite thirsty."

At about the same time, outside the knowledge of all three women, the queen's younger son, Prince Loki, a title he wished so badly to abandon yet knew he could not, was making his way through the halls of the palace, aimlessly almost, like a ghost searching for his lost soulmate. Indeed, he himself felt somewhat lost, or at least a part of himself felt lost, ever since that appropriately named phantom in purple disappeared into the night, taking his heart along with her. As he made his way through the large, golden halls of his home, he felt rather smaller than he usually did. Who could that woman possibly be? What woman could make him feel as he did the past two weeks, perhaps even longer?

It had to be Sigyn, it just had to. When he kissed her, it was as though she might as well have simply reached inside his chest and tugged as the deepest, most golden threads which wove through his heart. And such valiance and bravery she had shown during battle, having managed to separate that menacing Jotun woman from her protective invisible cloak. He had known that Sigyn had been trained in a rather similar style of fighting before she disappeared. If his hopeful theory had proved true, and his beloved was alive after all, he would be determined not to lose her again. But if the previous theory was true, and she was indeed gone, out of his grasp forever, then at least he had someone he could just as well be matched with.

All Loki knew was that he was filled with anxiety. For once, in all the time he had been awaiting the arrival of the day of the ball, he had been excitedly anticipating and yet somewhat dreading it, now that it was only one day away. He hoped desperately that the Purple Phantom would come, and if she didn't, he knew that only one fate awaited him, one that he was sure would make him miserable for the rest of his days.

But before he think about his troubles much longer, he suddenly heard his name being called by a voice he knew well.

"Loki!" He turned to see that it was his mother, sitting at a small table with what appeared to be a familiar looking lady dressed in black, and a younger one dressed in red – her daughter perhaps – right beside her.

"Oh, good day Mother," he immediately replied, quickly straightening his posture, and catching the surprised expression of the lady, and the wide-eyed, mouth-gaping-open one of her daughter. "I'm sorry," he then apologized, "was I interrupting something?"

"Oh we were just having tea," Frigga assured him, "Do you remember Lady Ylva? She used to live at court with us."

Loki raised his eyebrows. "Oh! Oh, yes of course," he said once he now remembered who she was. Being the polite prince he was, he strode over to her seat, where he took her already reaching out hand. He quickly took it up and kissed her fingertips. "How do you do Madam?" he asked.

"Very well, thank you your Highness," the lady replied with a voice as smooth as milk. She then gestured toward the younger woman sitting next to her. "May I introduce my daughter Brynja?" she went on, "She's quite an admirer of yours."

"Mother!" the girl somewhat snapped at her. Even so, she quickly turned toward Loki and flashed him a smile, despite her cheeks which he noticed were becoming a bright red. Well, he had no reason to overlook her. Loki took her hand and kissed it as well.

"So lovely to meet you Miss," he said.

"And you, your Highness," she replied, her voice even smoother than her mother's.

"If I may suggest an idea your Highness," the lady then said, "would you be interested in giving my daughter a short tour of the palace? It has been years since she last set foot in it and she practically begged me to take her with me once the invitation arrived."

"An excellent idea!" Frigga agreed, "But, what do you think my son?"

Loki took a moment to consider Lady Ylva's request. He saw that her daughter looked rather eager to join him on this walk, perhaps too eager, especially considering that her mother had just said that she esteemed him highly. He feared this trip would go badly the moment he set off, but, his mother had agreed to the idea, making it seem so reasonable that he simply couldn't refuse.

Reluctantly, he turned to Frigga and said, "I suppose she could accompany me for a few minutes."

"Oh wonderful!" the girl, Brnyja he remembered she was called, instantly exclaimed, shooting up from her seat so fast he barely had time to blink, "Let's be off then!" Just as quickly, she offered her arm, clearly expecting him to take it. Somewhat alarmed by her speed and anxiousness to go so hastily, but nonetheless still trying to remain polite, Loki took her arm in his. The two then strode off together, but what Loki failed to notice was the way Brynja waved eagerly at her mother, pointing at the man she so madly claimed to love beside her, before turning around again.

Being with a young woman he'd only just met, as he'd expected, Loki caught the suspicious looks of quite a few people, which he tried, somewhat unsuccessfully, to ignore. In another attempt to do so, and noticing that it had grown rather awkwardly quiet between him and his escorted, he decided that he might as well try to strike up a conversation with her.

"So, you and your mother used to live here at court?" he asked.

"Well of course!" Brynja exclaimed, "She is a lady after all. Why she had to leave all those years ago I cannot imagine!"

"Um, uh…" Loki stammered, not quite knowing what to say. But she quickly interrupted him.

"And I'm so looking forward to the masked ball tomorrow night!"

"Oh, you're going to the ball?" he asked.

"Why wouldn't I?" Brynja asked incredulously, "Especially since you will be there?"

Loki pressed his lips together, trying to hide his growing discomfort at being around this woman. "Indeed," was all he could managed to say.

"You know, I heard that you were looking for, the Purple Phantom," she then said.

Hearing those last two words instantly made Loki look at her. "I am," he said, "Do you know where she might be?"

"Oh, believe me, you don't want to bother with her," Brynja replied in a somewhat mocking tone.

Loki immediately frowned at her. "Why not?" he asked.

"Because I'm the one you want!" she said, looking straight into his now wide eyes, which reflected his increasingly nervous state.

"And, why is that?" he asked, not sure if he could hide his true feelings at being around this woman much longer.

"Because, I don't hide myself from you," she replied. As she did, Loki then noticed how she was leaning slightly toward him. He leaned back a bit for good measure. "You actually know who I am, and I know all sorts of things about you," Brynja continued. She leaned closer in, making Loki lean even further away from her, until he was sure that if he did so anymore he might lose his footing.

"And just think!" she then said, an intense look in her eyes, "If we were wed, think of all the wonderful things we could learn about each other…"

By now, Loki felt so anxious to leave this intrusive woman he couldn't help but swallow. He hoped she didn't hear it, and it was all he could do to try to smile and reply. "That, that sounds…" Suddenly, as though in answer to his most desperate wish at this moment, Loki heard his name being called by another voice he recognized instantly.

"Loki!" He immediately looked to see that it was just as he'd hoped it would be, his brother Thor, who he knew could drag him out of any trouble just as quickly as he could into it. Loki quickly turned back to the all-too-eager girl, and bid her a hasty farewell.

"Do please excuse me," he said, "I have business to attend to."

Without another word from him, or her, Loki instantly let go of her arm and rushed toward Thor, leaving Brynja to watch with near disbelief, which slowly turned into grave frustration. "Very well," she said through gritted teeth, "Then I shall have to let you go." Without bothering to try and chase him down, as she otherwise would have done, she instead turned swiftly on her heel, and flounced back the way she'd come.

Before long, and refusing help from any of the passing stewards and servants, she found her way back to the tea table, where she found her mother and the queen carrying on a conversation. Fortunately, she remembered just in time to retain her appearance as a proper young lady. Instead of flouncing, she walked with her still hands by her side back to her original seat, and she buried her frustration underneath a half-smile.

"Back so soon?" Ylva asked once she finished a sip of tea.

"Unfortunately," Brynja replied in a respectful tone, "He had some, business, to attend to."

"Oh, well, that's how it's been these past few weeks," Frigga nodded in understanding, "I myself have been rather busy. I'm surprised we've all managed to keep our heads on our shoulders."

Ylva nodded again before taking another sip of tea. And when she noticed that she had a full cup of tea sitting before her, Brnyja decided to take a sip as well. Both continued to listen as Frigga continued to speak.

"You know, I believe he's given up his search for the Purple Phantom," she said.

"That most scandalous vigilante?" Ylva asked.

"Indeed," the queen nodded, "It seems as though his passion for her has dropped significantly. Of course, I am only an observer. Well, at least he's managed to make a friend or two who seems to support him."

Ylva then raised her eyebrows in interest at that last sentence. "Come again?" she asked.

"Oh, about two weeks ago," Frigga said, "I saw him in the front courtyard carrying on a conversation with what appeared to be a servant girl. I did not recognize her so I thought she might be a servant to someone else."

Ylva didn't know whether to smile or frown. All she knew was that intense curiosity drove her to ask an important question. "What did she look like?"

"She was slightly shorter than him," Frigga replied, "she had long pale hair wrapped in a braid, and she wore a dress that was covered in places with soot. Most peculiar it was."

Upon hearing that description, Brynja's smile instantly dropped like a dead fly. She slowly turned to Ylva and asked in an odd voice, "Mother, isn't that Aska she's talking about?"

"Why, I believe it is," Ylva replied, doing her best to keep her own smile.

"She is your servant then?" Frigga asked.

"Indeed she is," Ylva nodded, trying to hide her intensely unpleasant state by taking another sip of tea.

Just then though, Brynja pushed back her seat and stood up. "May I be excused for a moment please?" she asked.

"Of course dear," Frigga nodded as she herself took another drink of tea.

The two women then watched as Brynja walked briskly away from them and into the adjoining hallway. Once she was out of their sight, the two then heard what sounded like fitful and rather angry screaming and shouting, along with kicking of feet, and ruffling of skirts. The event only lasted a few short moments, but once Brynja walked back looking about as composed as before, all Frigga could do was stare at her with a frown on her face and rather startled eyes.

"My goodness child," she said once she took her seat again, "Are you well?"

"Forgive me your Majesty," Brynja replied, a small smile having returned to her face, "I tend to be given over to short fits."

"Oh," Frigga nodded uneasily. In an attempt to calm herself, she took yet another sip of tea, and, for the rest of the visit, failed to notice the unsavory inner state of her regal guest, which was just how Ylva preferred it. She would have plenty of time to unleash it once she was home, plenty of time to deal with that pest of a girl once and for all.

* * *

Later that day, at the lady's home, Aska and Regin were discussing, somewhat nervously, how they were going to confront Ylva. Regin had hidden their dresses in a rather clever place, which she hoped her mother would not discover. But for now, all they could really do was wait to see how future events would unfold before them once the lady in black returned with her favorite daughter.

Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, they did not have to wait long. Before the sky began to darken, both girls jumped at the sound of the front door slamming shut almost as soon as it opened. Even so, they stood their ground in Ylva's room and waited patiently – though not completely without a sense of fright – as they heard two pairs of stomping feet coming their way. Before long, in walked a tall, black, crow of a woman, her face seething with clearly red anger, and her daughter right behind her narrowing her eyes at both her sister and Aska.

"How dare you keep secrets from me!" Ylva said in a low ominous voice, one Aska knew could be raised at any moment, "How dare you be so deceitful! The day you receive mercy from me will be the day pigs fly!"

Hearing those words, though she dared not show it, Aska instantly feared the worst. Had her mistress discovered her possible relationship with his Highness? Or worse, had she discovered her secret identity? In order to gain the answer to either question, Aska had to reluctantly ask one of her own. "What are you talking about?"

"At tea this afternoon her Majesty brought up your little interlude you and his Highness had two weeks ago," Ylva wasted no time explaining. She then looked at her with eyes that clearly reflected the fury she obviously wanted to release, and spoke in an intense voice with gritted teeth, "You were strictly told not to speak to anyone!"

So intimidating did those eyes immediately feel on her, that Aska couldn't help but lower her own. "Yes, I know," she replied in a submissive tone. But suddenly, just as she couldn't help lowering her eyes, she also couldn't help but raise them again, this time with determination as fierce as her mistress's anger. No longer was she simply going to be tossed and bossed about like a slave. No. Today was the day she would finally show her true colors.

"You're one to talk though Madam!" she exclaimed.

"I beg your pardon?" Ylva asked, clearly not used to being spoken to in this manner by a servant.

"Tell me," Aska said as she then took out the cloak from behind her back, holding the invisible side in front of her, "What's this?!"

Once she saw the condemning evidence, Ylva's face grew so red Aska for a moment feared she might explode. And indeed, she was set off almost immediately. "Why, you horrid little sneak!" she sneered, "You've been searching through my things haven't you!"

"No!" Aska replied rather angrily, "I was simply putting away laundry when I slipped on something sticking out from underneath the vanity, which obviously confirmed my suspicions! I knew you were hiding something and you were!"

Ylva gave her a look so intense it was almost as if she could see right through her. But by now, Aska didn't care. She'd had it with how this woman had been treating her all these years. "If you speak that way to me one more time…"

"You'll what?" Aska asked as she returned the stare, daring Ylva to do something bold to her, when Brynja suddenly spoke up.

"And I suppose you've also found out about her grand plan for tomorrow night."

"Brynja!" Ylva yelled furiously at her, instantly causing her to flinch. But the cat had been released from the bag. Now Aska had more than just the invisible cloak with which to convict her.

"Oh really?" she said, "And what is this grand plan of yours?"

Spinning around swiftly to face her again, Ylva replied, "Do I look like the kind of person who would so willingly tell you?"

With the same intense tone of voice, Aska dared to ask, "Do I look like the kind of person one would call stupid?"

Ylva crossed her arms at her, and replied in a semi-angry, semi-mocking voice, "Well, if the shoe fits."

Hearing that, Aska pressed her lips together. Now was the time to take serious action. She could no longer simply stand around arguing incessantly with her mistress. "I have a right mind to report you to his Majesty the king myself!" she declared, "He will deal justly with you!"

Ylva's eyebrows instantly shot up, and she moved in front of Aska just as she was beginning to leave the room. "You are not leaving this house!" she insisted.

Without thinking, which was something she often did in almost all situations, Aska blurted out, "You cannot lock me in here!"

Once the words escaped her lips, Ylva widened her eyes, as she suddenly got what she considered a rather brilliant idea. "Oh can't I?" she asked. Without waiting for a response, she instantly grabbed Aska by the wrist, and began pulling her down the hall and then down the stairs with such force that Aska nearly fell. Regin, knowing she couldn't simply stay behind, tried to catch up with them, crying, "Mother, stop!" But despite her best efforts, Brynja grabbed her by her own wrist and followed her mother through the house.

"Shut up!" she said, "I might enjoy watching this!"

Meanwhile, Aska tried again and again to regain her footing, hoping to somehow break free of her mistress's hold, but to no avail. "Let go of me!" she shouted, "Where are you taking me?!"

"Somewhere where you'll no longer bother me!" Ylva replied, clearly intent on seeing her mission to the end. Before long, all four began traveling down a hallway that Aska usually only traveled through, and at the end of it stood a door on the floor that made her eyes widen instantly, for she knew where it led to. The cellar.

Again, she tried and tried like a captive animal to break free, but Ylva only pulled harder and kept her grip, which now began to pain Aska. Before she knew it, they had arrived at the cellar door, which was made of metal and often heavy to lift. Ylva quickly took up the key from its hold, and turned to Aska one more time.

"You may come out when you're ready to behave!" she sneered.

With a great swiftness of movement, before Aska or Regin could try to stop her, Ylva unlocked the door, lifted it up, and then shoved Aska inside, where she landed about three or four feet below on the dusty, earthy floor. The only light that penetrated the darkness of the small room came from a small candle on the wooden ceiling that was often kept burning, and from the daylight seeping through the nearby window. And before Aska could even think of trying to get out, her mistress slammed the door shut with a loud bang, and her heart sank as she heard the key locking it.

In that moment, Aska knew that despite being able to usually escape the things she'd sometimes managed to land herself into, there was little to no chance of escaping this trap. Indeed, it seemed that she had underestimated Ylva. For a brief, crushing moment, she felt the great weight of being bested by the woman who'd suddenly become her enemy. Oh, the agony.

* * *

_Reviews would be appreciated._


	10. Off to the Ball

**Not Your Average Cinderella**

Chapter 9 – Off to the Ball

The rest of the day passed in a great hurricane of emotions and intense feeling for Aska. It was as though her mind suddenly decided to cast all sense of logic to the wind, which she continually longed to feel against her face rather than the flat, dry air of the cellar. And never before did the day feel so dark. With only one candle and a small window to let any sort of light pass through, it took Aska longer than usual to tell when the day was ending and the night beginning. And with its small space, rocky walls with small spider's webs here and there, and an earthen floor beneath her, the cellar began to feel more and more like a cave as well as a prison, one that she desperately wanted like a caged animal to be released from.

For a while, even though the shadow of doubt that it wouldn't work hung over her, she climbed up the leader underneath the metal door and slammed her fist repeatedly against it, hoping against hope that it might get damaged enough to break open. When that didn't work, she tried yelling as loud as she could through the small opening in the door, "You can't keep me in here!" Even though no one came, she tried again, yelling, "If you don't let me out I'll, I'll…" But she couldn't finish, as it slowly became clear to her, despite her best hopes, that no one would answer her plea. Not Ylva, not Brynja, or even Regin.

Little by little, the fire of her fitful temperament began to fade, until it was soon replaced by water, just as hot, emerging in the back of her eyes, threatening to explode out of her like steam in a lidded pot. It took all of Aska's remaining effort – which was very little – to even attempt to keep it all back. Eventually though, the immense pressure to release it outweighed any trying on her part. And before long, she climbed down the ladder, knelt down on the ground, and finally released her tears, accompanied by cries that grew more and more miserable with each one.

But even though she couldn't stop her crying now, in a vain effort to try and muffle it in any way, Aska pressed her hands against her face. Her emotions eventually proved to have the greater hold on her, and she slowly pulled her hands away, only to find that her tears had been tainted with the ashes and dust that seemed to constantly adorn her face all through her known life. The sight of it – as well as the thoughts that now filled her head at her expense – only made her weep even more.

Never had loneliness stricken her in such a harsh, merciless way. Over the years of living under Ylva's roof, she'd grown used to the sense of being alone that accompanied her as the only servant in the house, but now. Now that she'd experienced what it felt like to be cherished – even if it was due to the mask she wore – she did not know any other way to deal with such intense feelings of wretchedness and helplessness other than to unleash them in her tears. If Aska couldn't escape from this cellar – which seemed more and more unlikely the longer she thought about it – then she would fail in her principle duty as the Purple Phantom. She would fail to protect her realm, to stop the Frost Giants, and keep harm from coming to the ones she cared for most, including Prince Loki, who by now seemed more far away than ever before.

So greatly did all three hurts pain her heavy heart, that the weight of it seemed to make it impossible to even sit up anymore. Slowly, Aska lied down on the somewhat comfortable – but not comfortable enough – floor of the cellar. There she lay, in the small pool of starlight that managed to make its way through the window, until, at last, she finally cried herself into a deep sleep.

No dreams entered her mind. All she knew was the darkest scene of black she'd ever seen. There was nothing like it, nothing able to compare. But the next thing she knew, a bright light hit her closed eyes, causing her to open them. Part of her had longed to awaken on her own mattress beside the familiar fireplace, with all that had just taken place revealing itself to be just a dream.

But when Aska opened her eyes fully, her heart fell in grave disappointment as she found herself still in the cellar cave, still lying on the floor that she'd previously fallen asleep on. And if she was still here, then that meant that Ylva had indeed locked her in here yesterday, and the once secret fact remained that she was working for the Frost Giants, and likely planning something sinister for…tonight! Of course! Tonight was the night of the long-awaited masked ball! And…she was not going, no matter how much she might have wanted to go before.

But, how could she possibly think about such a desire so impossible to fulfill now that the whole realm was in danger? And besides, if by some miracle she did get to go, how could she even enjoy herself, even if the danger was absent? Hardly anyone she knew would be there. Perhaps most of the people there would have been of high-society with snobbish and rude attitudes anyway. How incredibly dreary. And how incredibly stupid of her for actually wishing to go in the first place! And yet…when Aska remembered the exquisite pair of glass slippers and even more exquisite dress Regin had made for her, when she once again thought of being in his arms and waltzing together with him in that big room, and perhaps even feeling his lips against hers once more…

Oh, why could she not face things as they were? Why was it so easy before yet seem so hard to do now? All Aska could do in an effort to cope with it was to simply give a heavy sigh, and turn away from the daylight which now replaced the starlight that seemed to pour itself on her the night before. Not even the once promising dawn could try to convince her to give into false hope. She would not allow it. Hope now only seemed to bring disappointment.

All she could do was sit where she once laid down, dreaming, but never allowing herself to wish, to escape from this dark, miserable dungeon. Time seemed to pass very slowly, or not at all, until her ears picked up the sound of footsteps on the floor above her, followed by the sound of someone knocking on the cellar door. It took a short while for Aska to realize that she was not hearing things. Once she turned around and saw what appeared to be a shadow stretching over the opening in the door, she knew that she had indeed heard what she thought, but that was quickly replaced by the question of what it meant.

After wondering whether or not she should even try to investigate, it wasn't long before she heard her name being called. "Aska!" Though it sounded faint, as though being whispered, Aska knew that voice no matter how loud or soft it sounded. Regin was outside that door! But why? And how? Impatient to know, she quickly got to her feet and walked over underneath the door, where she looked up through the bars, and her eyes widened to see that it was indeed Regin. And once their eyes met, Aska could instantly tell that although it looked like she was trying to hide it, it was clear merely by uneasiness emanating from her that she was rather sad, perhaps even guilty.

Aska was about to ask what she was doing here, when Regin handed her through the opening a small cup of water. "Here Aska," she whispered. Curious, and remembering how thirsty she felt, she reached her fingers through, took the cup, and took an immediate sip. Regin then handed her two small loaves of bread wrapped in cloth, which Aska quickly took as well, until a suspicious, troubling thought suddenly emerged in her mind, which immediately transferred to her face, making her look back at Regin.

"Don't worry," she said, a shadow of a smile managing to cross her lips, "It's not poisoned. I made it."

Aska nodded. Even during this dark time, at least she still had Regin, probably the only trustworthy person available. "Thank you," she then said before taking a bite of bread, which she instantly found had cheese inside it. But the surprise of the taste of cheddar immediately faded away once she looked again at Regin, when she saw that the poor sweet girl now had tears in her brown eyes.

"Aska," she whispered, trying not to weep, "I'm so sorry!"

So she did feel guilty. In a quick attempt to try to relieve her of any of it at all, Aska handed the cloth back to Regin so she could wipe her tears away, and immediately replied, "Don't be. It's not your fault."

Regin opened her mouth to speak, but she quickly looked back once she heard an abrupt, demanding voice, which Aska instantly recognized as Brynja's. "Hurry up Regin, you half-wit!" she said.

Once she heard that deliberate insult, a spark of anger ignited within Aska, causing her free hand to clench into a tight fist. But before she could punch it into something, Regin looked back and said softly, "I haven't much time." She then leaned forward slightly, and whispered in a determined voice only she and Aska could hear, "But I will get you out of here. I promise."

Aska nodded, surprisingly feeling some of Regin's determination rub off on her, when she jumped at hearing Brynja's sneering voice again. "Regin!" Regin looked back and nodded quickly before turning back to look at Aska one more time, neither smiling nor frowning. "Goodbye," she said. Before Aska could respond, she hastily got up from her knees, turned around, and briskly walked away. Aska continued to look up through the opening until she could no longer hear the footsteps of either girls, and when she looked back at her makeshift breakfast, she found that she'd inexplicably lost her appetite.

Knowing that she might not be fed again for a long time, Aska put her food and water aside, and instead began to wonder how Regin could possibly free her, if she was being watched by either Ylva or Brynja like she was just now. She did not doubt in any way Regin's intelligence or her desire to help. But, perhaps she could try thinking of a back-up plan just to be safe. Perhaps while she was in the midst of her immense sadness, she might have missed something, a possible way of escape. But did she dare hope again? Well, if there was even the smallest way out, it couldn't hurt.

Very slowly and carefully, Aska began scanning the room, looking for any abnormality, any type of literal – or nonliteral – hole in the wall. She observed the opening in the cellar door, but quickly realized that she wouldn't be able to reach out her hand and unscrew the hinges, let alone unlock it with anything. Maybe there was a hidden pathway behind one of the barrels or boxes. She quickly began moving aside one after another, searching with keen eyes and touching with cautious hands for anything unusual. But as the minutes ticked by, in a similar manner did her hope once again begin to disappear, as she saw and felt nothing that indicated a secret passageway. No loose bricks or stray rays of light from outside. The only other likely way out seemed to be the lone window on the opposite side of the room. But even if Aska did manage to break the glass, the opening appeared too narrow to squeeze herself through, unless she somehow became thinner than she already was.

So, it seemed she was right after all. Unless Regin could think of a way to get her out, she would remain trapped in here while Ylva wreaked havoc on Asgard. But even as the threatening thought loomed over her like a sharp blade, now that she had at least some of her senses back after that night spent in misery, she soon realized that worrying about it would not get her out of here either. Such distracting emotions aside, it looked as though there was only one thing Aska could do for now. Wait.

But before long, it came to her attention that doing so was easier said than done. Were she allowed outside, it would have been much easier. And as much as all those chores had become a pain over the years, at least they kept her busy. Now there was almost nothing to do. Hoping that perhaps a small amount of time would pass if she did, she took up her breakfast again. Aska took another sip of the more than refreshing water, and ate the rest of one of the loaves of bread, closing her eyes to savor the excellent, satisfying taste of the cheese. But being an active person who could not sit down for long, shortly after she finished eating, she began pacing the room in an attempt to release her uneasiness. When she grew bored of that, she laid down on the same spot as before, closed her eyes, and eventually drifted into that content state of unconsciousness.

When she awoke, she saw that there was less light shining through the window than earlier, leading her to believe that it was now early or midafternoon. So at least a few hours had passed during her nap, but still, nighttime, and freedom, seemed far beyond her reach. Suddenly feeling a dryness in her throat, Aska sat up and stretched every one of her long limbs before she took up her water and drank every last blessed drop. She then quickly devoured the next loaf of bread, which she hoped would satisfy her hunger for the rest of the day, and evening, and night. Soon, she also began pacing again, like she imagined one of the horses in the stables would, though they were probably used to it. And though time seemed to pass slower than was desired, less and less light began to seep through the window, until at last, after what felt like a thousand years, the light of the day was fully traded for the darkness of the night.

And before she knew it, Aska heard again the sound of footsteps coming her way. She turned toward the door, hoping to hear Regin's voice again, wanting after such a long day to hear a plan, whatever it may be. But instead of a friendly, encouraging voice, she heard an ominous, demeaning one that she'd come to know just as much as Regin's, only now, it seemed much more menacing knowing who – and what – she actually was.

"Well now, has our little troublemaker learned her lesson?" Ylva asked, "In fact, is she here at all?"

Not wishing for herself or Regin to receive very much unwanted attention, but not willing to face the woman who had imprisoned her either, Aska turned around and walked backward, keeping her arms firmly crossed, until she was sure she stood under the door. Since the night had now arrived, the ball must have already started. She imagined that the ones above her were in their fine dresses she and Regin had sneaked peaks at, with matching masks, and slippers, perhaps even jewelry, accompanied by fine hair and face paint. But even if she had the nerve to look upon Ylva, she was certain that no matter how regal she looked, she would see the monster underneath.

"Shall I repeat the question or are you going to answer me?" Ylva asked, sounding like she was trying her best to be nice.

Aska kept silent.

"Then I assume you'd rather stay where you are right now," Ylva said, her voice becoming lower and increasingly darker, "Well, it's such a shame you'll miss the ball. We would have so liked for you to go."

_An obvious lie_, Aska thought. But, now that she was here, an urgent desire to know what her plan was emerged suddenly in her mind. Despite the clear unlikelihood of her telling her, Aska immediately knew that she would never get another chance to gain such desired information. She kept her back turned, but, keeping any sense of emotion out of her voice, she asked, "What are you planning to do?"

In spite of her expectations, Aska received an answer. But from the moment she heard it, she knew it was not the reply she so wanted. In fact, whether it was the tone of her voice, the actual words, or a combination of both, the answer somehow managed to send a shiver up her spine, which she immediately hoped Ylva didn't notice.

"Let's simply that, not even the great Purple Phantom will be able to rescue you or your precious prince after midnight."

Aska tried to imagine her mistress's face at saying those words, but all she could see was a black mask embroidered with wickedness and corruption. And even worse. Now that she faced once again the thought of the biggest failure of her life only a few hours away, she could practically feel the evil from that mask descend down on her like a black snow. But then, as she began to process the woman's answer in her mind, she began to ask, why midnight? She tried to remember the importance of it, when her eyes widened as it suddenly hit her.

Midnight tonight was Loki's deadline to find a bride other than Idunn. If Odin was going to announce it, and if Ylva claimed that nothing was going to stop her afterward, then that meant… Oh no. That meant she was going to steal Odin's spear when everyone was distracted so she could break the seal in Jotunheim! The mere thought of it sent Aska's heart racing. She then began to wonder if Regin knew, to fear that she might not have a plan at all. But how could she promise her something and yet not follow through with it?

She kept her eyes looking down to the ground, and tried to ignore, to the best of her ability, the sudden cheerfulness in Ylva's tone of voice. "Well, come along girls," she said, "The carriage awaits." No one spoke another word, and Aska surprisingly managed to keep standing as she heard three pairs of feet walk away from her dim chamber. The candle had been snuffed out long ago, so there was now barely any light in the room. It mattered not though, as Aska actually preferred it, for she then closed her eyes, and then felt one solitary tear, followed by a second, travel down her cheeks. The mere thought of remaining here, while her mistress-turned-archenemy destroyed everything she knew and loved, was enough to make her want to scream. And yet, she did not have the will to.

Regin followed her mother and sister reluctantly through the halls. She'd wanted to cry after witnessing the scene she just saw. But she could not. As great as the desire was, she could not give into emotion and lose concentration on the plan she'd managed to come up with during the day. Soon though, the three made their way to the foyer, and Regin immediately straightened in order to keep focus. Now was the time to put her idea into action. Now was the time to put on the performance of her life.

"Mother?" Brynja said, "Don't tell me you really intend to hurt Prince Loki?"

Ylva looked at her with a smiling but confused face. "How could I when you want so much to marry him?" she asked.

Though Brynja didn't seem to be aware of it, as she immediately chuckled and clapped her hands with glee, Regin had the sense that their mother was mocking her. In that moment, she also felt a sense of pity for her sister, even if she was often a bully to her. But then, as they made their way through the front door together, Regin quickly stopped them.

"Wait, Mother?" she said.

Both Ylva and Brynja sighed in frustration, and turned around to wonder what could be keeping her. "Yes Regin?" Ylva asked, "What is it?"

"I believe I've forgotten my handkerchief," Regin replied, hoping she wasn't showing any hint of nervousness, "May I go get it?"

Despite her inner, shaking state, which she feared her mother would see, Ylva sighed and nodded. "Very well, make haste," she said.

"Thank you," Regin nodded. She then turned and walked up the stairs away from Ylva and Brynja, and did not look back at them once as she made her way to her room. Once there, it didn't take long for her to find her not truly lost item. Thankfully, it remained where she had previously hidden it, underneath her bed of all places. Such an obvious hiding spot that no one would think to look there. And it was still folded in the specific way she wanted.

But knowing that they'd be expecting her any minute now, Regin quickly rolled her handkerchief in her hand and hurried back down the hallway. There, at the top of the stairway, she found Ylva and Brynja waiting for her like before, and rather impatiently, she quickly noticed. She took her skirt in her hands and hastened down the stairs, and then joined her family as they walked out of the house and into the nighttime air together. They then made their way toward the carriage Ylva had hired, with its twin dark colored horses and golden edges decorating it, but all Regin could hope was that tonight's plans would go accordingly.

Once they were all inside, the driver immediately encouraged the horses forward. Ylva sat across from her daughters, while Regin took the seat next to the window on the left. Not only was that part of her idea, but it also gave her the privilege of looking back at the place that had been her home five years, yet in the past twenty-four hours seemed to become like a prison to her as well as it surely must have to the girl who was more of a sister to her than Brynja ever was.

But once that house left her sight, and another one came into view, Regin regained full concentration. As soon as they were halfway to the next house, which she would know in either daylight or moonlight, she began putting the more conspicuous side of her handkerchief against her face, letting only her mother and sister see what she wanted them to see. Very, very slowly, she crept it to the left, toward the open window, and then instantly let it go and sail with the wind once she was sure it was the right time. Instantly gasped and looked back, hoping to give the illusion that she'd accidentally dropped it.

"Oh no!" she cried for added effect.

"Oh it's only a mere handkerchief Regin!" Ylva scolded her.

"Indeed," Brynja agreed, "And besides, who'd want to be around a girl who sneezes all night!"

She quickly let out a fit of laughter, but Regin kept her disappointed frown. What neither Ylva nor Brynja knew though, was that in her mind, the once timid and meek girl was smiling, both at her own mischief, and at the hope that had now been given permission to shine. If person she intended saw it and what was on it, all would quickly fall into place. All she could do now was wait.

Jarl was inside his somewhat small house, watching what he knew to be the carriage containing Regin and her family carrying them towards the palace. Even if their relationship was secret, he couldn't help but steal a glance as she passed by. But then, he looked up again, as the passing carriage was not the only sight his eyes caught. He searched with his eyes until he saw what looked to be a small square made of silk in the front yard. How odd. But, as possible as it was that one of the women dropped it by accident, could it also possibly be a message of some sort from his lady love? The boy who grew up loving secrets suddenly reappeared within him, causing the blacksmith to give in to his curiosity and hurry out to the yard once the carriage was far away enough. Little did he know that a somewhat shocking message was waiting for him.

* * *

Against the black, star-filled sky of the late spring night, the palace of Asgard seemed to give off a great golden glow, now that the ball was getting underway. But while most of the guests had arrived, all of the royal family had yet to make an appearance, especially Loki. Whether or not his father, mother, and brother were now on their way to the ballroom, where he was sure a multitude of unmarried girls awaited him, he stood alone in his torch-lit room, wondering if he should even make the attempt to go join his family at all. He had been ready for the past hour, with his black suit covered with bits of golden armor, and a green cape stretching out behind him. He wondered if this was how male animals felt when they went to search for a mate. Sure, all of this outward apparel would definitely attract any maiden within a hundred miles – maybe more – but his heart was searching for one. The only one that would satisfy him.

But before he could think about it much longer, the door suddenly opened, and in the mirror he saw a familiar face surrounded by long blond hair. "Hello handsome!" Thor smiled at him. Despite his rather uneasy state of mind, Loki couldn't help but chuckle. His brother never did fail to make him smile, even when he was not in the mood to.

"Hello to you too!" he greeted him back.

Thor chuckled, and then nodded his head toward the hallway behind him. "Come on," he said, "Father told me to come get you."

Loki let loose an exasperated sigh. "Oh no," he said, "What for now?"

"He didn't say," Thor replied, "Only that it was urgent."

Loki pressed his lips together, knowing that with his father, one did not ignore urgent matters, even ones that he would otherwise prefer to avoid. But, seeing as tonight was an important night, he saw no need to disappoint him, as he seemed to be doing so lately. He nodded and turned toward Thor. "Alright then," he said as he walked toward him, "Lead the way."

Before long, the two were walking down the halls together as they usually did, their capes trailing behind them. They met faces of approval of all the guards they passed, but Loki kept his eyes looking forward, not really caring tonight whether they showed it or not. But soon, it wasn't long before his brother broke the silence with a question he'd previously hoped he would not ask.

"Do you really think she'll come tonight?" Thor asked.

Loki raised his eyebrows, but he nonetheless gave his rather hopeful answer. "I asked her," he said, "And she said, 'Perhaps.'"

"Perhaps," Thor repeated, nodding as though with sarcasm, which Loki immediately caught.

"You're just waiting to see my face when Father announces my engagement," he teasingly accused him.

"Maybe!" Thor smiled, "Though, I can still barely comprehend why any woman would want to marry you!"

"Oh stop it!" Loki insisted, resisting a need to give him a rough push on the shoulder.

The two immediately chuckled. But before they reached the end of their journey through the hallways, and the ballroom lay only a few yards away, Loki and Thor at last caught their father standing near the large and imposing doorway, waiting for them. Even from this distance, he looked every inch the king of Asgard he was. He stood tall with broad shoulders, and his dark red cape falling behind his back, his gray hair descending past his shoulders, and in his right hand he held his greatest weapon: his legendary staff. But as they got closer to him, Loki saw the troubled look Odin wore on his one-eyed face, one that instantly made Loki feel this wasn't going to be one of his usual lectures. In fact, he himself began to feel the trouble once he was a few feet away from him.

Even so, Odin managed a smile once he finally met his sons. "Thank you Thor," he nodded at his oldest, "If you wish, you may get to the ball. I'd prefer to speak to your brother alone."

For some reason, Thor then became somewhat tense and uneasy, perhaps at noticing his father's apparent anxiety as well. "Yes, um, of course, Father," he nodded back. He then leaned toward Loki and said quietly, "Good luck." And before Loki could reply, his brother left his side, and headed alone through the open doors, and into the grand scene that Loki knew awaited him also. From here, he could hear the sounds of people talking, laughing, carrying on conversations. He could only wonder how the maidens would react once they saw him. But, for now, the only person he had to face was – rather thankfully – his father.

And, even more interestingly, the face he met was not what he expected to meet. Instead of a stern, firm one that usually accompanied his father during his lectures, he saw what appeared to be an uncomfortable, maybe even sorry expression, inevitably making Loki wonder what was on his mind. He listened carefully as he then began to speak.

"Loki," he said in a rather calm voice, "I've been thinking throughout the day and…"

"Yes?" Loki asked once he started to trail off.

Odin pressed his lips together before speaking again. "Perhaps I've been too hard on you – even, even unfair – concerning your marital prospects."

Loki raised his eyebrows, and couldn't help but wonder if this was his father talking to him, or his mother's coaxing. But, either way, he immediately began to realize that he himself had some words to say. "Well, Father, I know you want the best for me but, I'm not a child anymore."

"Yes, I know," Odin nodded, "And, if this, strange masked woman is the one you truly love then, you have my blessing…whether, or not, you meet your deadline."

Loki's eyes instantly widened in amazement, as he hardly believed this was really his own father saying these words to him. "You really mean that?"

Odin smiled softly, and then placed his hand on his shoulder. "Yes," he replied, "I simply want your happiness, my son. And, if she makes you happy, then, so am I."

Loki simply stood there, speechless. All he knew was that he finally heard what he so desperately wanted to hear from his father, and all he could was embrace him in a great hug, never mind that they were doing it in front of the watching guards. "Thank you Father," he managed to say.

Once they finished embracing though, Odin immediately took on his mantle of responsibility again, as he stood straight and said, "Very well then, let's get ourselves to the ball."

Now suddenly feeling rather refreshed, even though he still knew of what awaited him, Loki couldn't help but let out another chuckle. "Agreed," he nodded. But despite his humor though, he drew in a deep breath as if preparing himself for a battle, and a battle unlike any other at that, before walking through the doorway and into the ballroom with his father by his side.

* * *

Not long after they left, Aska's strength finally dwindled to the point where she could only keep herself up on her knees. Even if she didn't believe she had anymore tears to cry, that did not stop the once again extreme sadness from filling her to the point of agony. As the minutes passed, she once again began to fear the worst. Perhaps Regin could not come up with a plan after all. Maybe Ylva really had bested both her and her best ally. And with midnight only a few hours away, nothing seemed to be standing between the woman and victory for Jotunheim. And all of the resulting carnage would weigh on her shoulders until they finally broke. Indeed, they already began to feel rather heavy. Maybe, maybe there really was no hope at all.

She continued to sit still like a marble statue in the silver starlight shining down on her, when all of a sudden, a sound she did not think she would hear again, and then another she did not even dare to imagine, reached her ears. The first was a series of slightly heavy footsteps traveling through her house, and the other was a masculine voice – one she did not often hear, but immediately recognized – calling her name.

"Aska!" he called, sounding desperate to find her, "Aska! Where are you! It's me!"

Oh, but could it be? Could she simply be imagining things? No, she had indeed heard that voice, she told herself. It was Jarl! And he was looking for her! Oh, bless the blacksmith, and her best friend in the nine realms! So she did have a plan after all! And now…now that the rest seemed up to her, nothing was going to stop her from setting herself free. Nothing was going to keep her in the dark any longer.

Feeling a sudden resurge of energy flow through her like a breaking dam, Aska instantly hurried to her feet, rushed to the door, and shouted through the opening as loudly as she could. "Jarl! Jarl, I'm in here!" she cried, "Help me!"

Almost instantly, she began to hear footsteps running quickly towards the door. And once she saw Jarl's familiar tan face with his red hair surrounding it, her rapidly beating heart instantly began to soar for the hope that had so long been missing from her. Jarl, however, couldn't be help but be shocked at the scene before him. He had the feeling that the message on the handkerchief was serious, but he did not imagine he'd see something like this.

"Aska!" he exclaimed, "What are you doing in here? Are you alright?"

"Don't worry, I'm fine!" Aska replied, the words spilling out of her as fast as they possibly could, "Ylva locked me in here yesterday!"

"She what?!" Jarl asked, instantly beginning to grow red in the face.

"Not now!" Aska shook her head hastily, "I just need to get out!"

"Alright," Jarl nodded, "Stay where you are!"

Aska nodded back, and watched as Jarl reached his hand to his left, and looked as though he was unscrewing the hinges, just as she originally thought of. And with Jarl's more than strong hands, before another minute passed, he had both hinges off the door, and immediately lifted it open for Aska. The torchlight that suddenly hit her face right then filled Aska with the great happiness of freedom she longed to experience but had for much too long eluded her. Indeed, it took her more than a moment to realize that Jarl was holding his arms out to her. She then wrapped her own arms around his, and with great strength befitting that of a blacksmith, he pulled her out before she could blink.

In that moment, Aska felt all of her sadness, melancholy, and depression literally flow out of her like a spring river that had finally thawed after a harsh winter. Her arms instantly flew around Jarl, and she even planted a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you Jarl!" she cried, "You're simply the best!"

"You should thank Regin," Jarl smiled once the two looked at each other again, "She 'dropped' the message for me." He then reached into his pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a silk handkerchief. But Aska immediately noticed that on one side there were two Norse symbols in her handwriting which read: _Help Aska!_

So great was this realization that a long-forgotten spark of humor arose within Aska, culminating in laughter. "The clever girl!" she exclaimed. But suddenly, as soon her old humor came, it swiftly flew away, replaced by the familiar responsibility she felt as the Purple Phantom. Even though it felt incredible, now that she was free, she had to do all she can to prevent the coming catastrophe. She couldn't allow anything to stop her now.

"Jarl!" she said, "I have to get to the palace!"

"What for?" he asked.

Gesturing toward the cellar, Aska explained, "Ylva locked me in there yesterday after I found out she was working for the Frost Giants."

"What?" he asked rather incredulously, "How do you know this?"

"I'll explain later," she assured him, "The point is, if I don't stop her by midnight, she could very well steal his Majesty's spear!"

"You think she might use it to break the seal of Jotunheim?"

"I believe so," Aska nodded, "But I need to get there now!"

She then turned away from him, prepared to hurry as fast as a deer down the hallway, through the house, and then out the front door, when Jarl suddenly grabbed her by the arm and stopped her. "Wait a minute!" he said, pulling her back, "They're holding a ball! You can't go looking like that!"

Aska was about to object, that she didn't have the time, when her eyes, which suddenly seemed to gain a mind of their own, looked down at what Jarl pointed out. Almost immediately, she was surprised at how even dirtier she looked than usual. Nearly from head to toe she was covered in dust and dirt, and in a strange moment of the past meeting the present, she bizarrely found that the statement Ylva once gave about her coming from a fireplace seemed to fit her now more than ever. Maybe…maybe she could go in that dress that she once again seemed to long to wear. Perhaps to set a trap for Ylva if nothing else. But the question remained.

"What time is it?" she asked Jarl.

"About ten o' clock," he replied.

Aska nodded, and then began to seriously consider her options as she usually did in such situations. On the one hand, she could simply go and expose Ylva for the traitor she was before anything could go wrong. Then again, she might be mistaken for a madwoman, and perhaps not even be let into the palace in the first place. On the other hand, she could go in the elaborate, princess-like outfit Regin had assembled for her and call Ylva out when the time came, and maybe, if she had enough time, she could also fulfill her too-long-buried desire to see Prince Loki, to dance with him, to kiss him…

Sentimental emotions aside though, the choice seemed rather clear to her, and she gave her response. "I suppose I could go and change."

Jarl nodded, but Aska suddenly remembered an important detail. "But I'd like you to do a favor for me."

"Of course," he said.

"Please find Dagny and tack her for me," Aska said, "I keep it behind a loose plank above the stables."

"Alright, but, how will she know you sent me?"

"She will know you by my whistle," she assured him, "You remember it don't you?"

"I think so. Does it have three notes?"

"Yes," Aska nodded, "But we must hurry! We haven't time to waste!"

"Of course!" Jarl nodded back. Without any further words from either, both then parted ways. Jarl rushed out the front door to head for the stables, while Aska hurried into the kitchen that she'd never been so glad to see.

From then on, she began to prepare herself for the event of a lifetime. She gathered several buckets of warm water and poured all of it in a bathtub she pulled out, and let out an immediate sigh of relief once she took off her clothes and immersed herself in it. Most of her baths were usually cold because Ylva and Brynja would use most of the hot water. In fact, she couldn't really recall the last time she had a warm bath. And feeling it against her surprisingly cold body made her feel as though she could simply sink into it. But of course, now was not the time. Aska took a couple of sweet-smelling soaps she believed Regin wouldn't mind her borrowing, and quickly placed a handful of each in her now loose hair. After a while, she finished scrubbing both her hair and her body, and reluctantly stepped out of the warm water that had relieved her so.

She quickly dried her body, deciding to put on her nightgown since she didn't have a robe, and then went for her hair. First she squeezed the excess water out of it, and then brushed it to make it smooth, wavy, and put it back to its original pale color. Aska then decided to put on some cosmetics: some lip gloss, blush, and sparkling purple eyeshadow. The result had her eyes widening in surprise, as now that the usual ashes on her face had been replaced by appropriate face paint, she actually believed she might be pretty, if not lovely.

But now the moment had come to finally step in her dress, which she found in the only place she and Regin would think, under Regin's bed. Indeed, touching it again made a tingling sensation travel through her arms, but she quickly brought her mind back to focus. Aska slipped into it, and for a moment couldn't believe that she was finally wearing it. And as it turned out, that wasn't all that was in the basket. There was also an ivory circlet decorated with silver flowers and had a translucent purple ribbon descending down the back of it, much like the fabric down the girdle of the dress. There was a pair of translucent, purple, fingerless gloves with silver armlets shaped like the flowers on the circlet. And the mask she found she liked even more than her original one. It was purple with embroidered gold surrounding the eyes and decorating the border. It was definitely perfect for the occasion.

But once she had all three on, she realized she still hadn't put on perhaps the most perplexing part: the glass slippers. She couldn't help but think of how she might break them, despite Regin's promise. But, ever curious, she eased one foot inside the first, and then the other in the second, and found that not only did they fit perfectly, but that they were actually somewhat comfortable.

Even so, now that she believed she was ready, the final verdict waited to be decided. She walked up to Regin's room and somewhat hesitantly approached her vanity mirror, only to receive what might have been the amazement of her life. The color of her dress nearly matched her hair color perfectly, and the diamonds on the dress and the slippers sparkled in the starlight. Aska couldn't recall another time in her life when she felt so alluring, so beautiful. It made her feel almost light-headed, until she remembered that she was going mainly for the mission.

She hurried back downstairs, and back into the kitchen, where she took out her Purple Phantom costume and her weapons and placed them inside a large saddlebag she sometimes took when on errands for Ylva. Then, knowing that Jarl might now be out there waiting for her, with the bag in hand, she quickly hastened toward the foyer, and then rushed out the front door. There in the front yard, as she thought, Jarl was waiting for her, holding Dagny by the reigns. But once she beheld her beloved horse once again, Aska couldn't help but notice how amazing she looked tonight.

Beneath her usual tack, her pale coat seemed to shine, her mane and tail seemed to flow like silk and shimmer in the starlight, and her eyes were bright and happy, immediately making Aska more than happy as well. "How did you do this?" she asked Jarl as she walked toward him.

"I gave her a bath and brushed her," Jarl replied happily, "She's as fine as any royal steed!"

"I should say so!" Aska agreed, when she suddenly noticed the way Jarl was looking at her. Even though she somewhat knew what his opinion was going to be, she nevertheless felt the need to ask. "How do I look?"

For a moment, Jarl seemed to forget that he could speak, until he finally found his voice again and replied, "Like a vision."

For added affect, Aska couldn't help but give a twirl or two, making Jarl chuckle. She then approached her horse, and after Jarl placed the saddlebag on the back, Aska was about to leap on, when he suddenly stopped her, shaking his head. "Ladies do not mount their horses alone," he said.

Aska chuckled, and decided to humor him by allowing him to help her onto Dagny. She quickly found that riding a horse in this fine dress might be more difficult than she first thought, but if she could get to the palace in one piece, that was all that mattered. She then quickly gathered the reins in her hands, and gave Jarl one last hopeful look. In return it seemed, he reached into his other pocket, then took out and placed into the saddlebag what appeared to be a rolled-up scroll.

"My invitation," he explained, "I wasn't planning to go anyway. Besides, you need it more than I do."

"Thank you so much," she said.

Jarl nodded. "If you find Regin," he then said, "Tell her I send my greetings."

"Of course," Aska nodded.

Jarl then stepped back and gave a final wave. "Good luck!" he said.

"Thank you!" Aska waved back. She then looked forward at the path ahead of her, and, seeing the glowing golden palace in the distance, took a deep breath before she kicked Dagny gently in the flanks. Her horse instantly whinnied and right then, the two were cantering down the road together. Though the night did feel rather familiar, as this was usually the time they went on missions together, tonight, the simple air seemed to carry with it both a sense of foreboding, and a sense of excitement. As Aska rode down the familiar roads and toward the last place she expected to go that night, she realized that, even if it wasn't direct, hope did seem to help her out of that prison. Indeed, it, as well as Dagny, seemed to carry her down the pathway toward her destiny, where she would not only likely meet Prince Loki once again, but, even more importantly, stop a great villainess before she could put her evil plan into action. Tonight, the Purple Phantom would indeed come to both her rescue and that of the prince. She would once again win over this wicked evil. And all in one eventful night.

* * *

_Reviews would be appreciated._


	11. I See the Light

_*A/N: "I See the Light" from Tangled! How could I use anything else?  
_

* * *

**Not Your Average Cinderella**

Chapter 10 – I See the Light*

As Aska continued to ride under the protective cover of the nightly darkness, about as many questions as there were pumpkins in a garden she came across entered her already restless mind. Would Loki, or, more importantly, Ylva recognize her? And if Ylva was planning to steal the spear, how was she going to do it with all of those people in the same room? Even if they were distracted, they would notice her the moment she did it. Suddenly, Aska remembered an important detail. Perhaps she had hidden her invisible cloak inside her dress. It would not surprise her, since she noticed that lately both Ylva and Brynja were becoming fond of an odd new skirt referred to as a "bustle." It was very likely they were a part of their dresses.

But before long, before she could even think of possible answers to any of those questions, Aska realized that she was only a few yards from the palace that looked even more massive than when she first approached it all those weeks ago. It seemed almost to blaze like a giant torch with its shining, golden exterior. She wondered if she would even be able to find her way on her own, or if the guards she encountered along the way would recognize her as the Purple Phantom. The closer she got, the more her heart raced, and the more she began to feel her hold of the reins grow weaker. There seemed to be more guards on duty than usual, standing like shadows against the largest fortress in the realm.

Even so, she kept Dagny at her usual, smooth, cantering pace, and kept her eyes locked on the palace, from which she could already hear the festivities inside. But once she came only a few feet away from it, Aska frowned when she felt another perplexing feeling suddenly seem to land on her like a butterfly, very light, yet clearly present. It instantly set the nerves that immediately crawled up her skin into motion, but it did not feel evil like the one she felt when approaching Ylva, simply, uninvited. Something about seeing the palace as it looked now seemed to cause something within Aska to awaken. She wondered what it could have been, when she immediately remembered the last two times she'd felt it, when she brought Loki to safety, and when she went to deliver a message. Now, it felt stronger than ever. But whatever it was, the answer seemed to evade Aska like a clever animal that knew it was being hunted. Would she never be able to figure this out?

Well, one way or another, it would simply have to wait, as she then realized that she was not too far from the entrance. Seeing the two guards who had noticed her, she quickly slowed Dagny, until she finally stopped in front of them, both of which immediately ran to her side.

"May I help you off my lady?" one of them asked.

"And may I take your horse?" asked the other.

Aska raised her eyebrows, as she wasn't used to receiving such formal treatment, usually being nothing more than a servant. It also didn't take her long to notice that they seemed to be somewhat attracted to her, another thing she was not terribly used to. But, seeing as both were rather eager to help, she thought she might as well smile and humor them.

"Yes you may," she replied, "Both of you. Thank you."

Aska leaned forward, and allowed the guard on the left to help her off. She then turned around, took out the scroll from the saddlebag, thanking Jarl again for remembering to give it to her, and watched for a moment as the other guard walked Dagny off the path before she made her way up the short marble stairway. Ahead of her was an entrance with two large, open doors, which immediately appeared heavier than the two guards on either side to open them. She noticed, though, that of them was holding his hand out to her. Aska immediately gave him the scroll, offering proof that she had been invited, when she technically had not been.

Now, though, came the hard part. Beyond the pair of doors was a torch-lit hallway that resembled much a fortified cave-like tunnel, showing her the way inside the palace. Aska immediately felt as least half her height, for the first time she'd come here about a month before, at least someone who knew their way around had been with her. This time, she was going to have to go it alone. But could she?

The sudden reminder that she'd come for perhaps her most important mission yet seemed to give her the much-needed push to make the first step. With a deep breath, Aska took up her skirt in both hands, moved one foot forward, followed by the other, and was soon walking by herself through the halls that seemed even more massive than before. And even though she once heard the sounds of music and laughter and such, as she continued to make her way toward what could be the most suspenseful night of her life, all she allowed herself to hear now were the sound her glass slippers made against the finely polished amber floor, and the sound of her heart beating both excitedly and nervously at the same time.

* * *

As the young woman in the famed purple mask was arriving at even more famous palace of gold, all of the people inside were enjoying themselves to a very splendid occasion, especially those girls who had yet to be married. Most had cheered at the arrival of Thor, the crown prince, but even more cheered once his brother, Loki, came in. However, upon the firm urging of their families and friends, those same girls – well, most of them – remembered their manners and started behaving like proper young ladies. With the exception of perhaps one or two. While one of them was misbehaving, her mother was finishing up a conversation with an old friend while her other daughter watched.

But just as she was, in that moment, she turned an eye of suspicion on her younger daughter, one that immediately made her wish she could flee, no matter how much her feet seemed to remain stuck to the floor.

"You seem rather, quiet, tonight, Regin," Ylva remarked, "Even more so than usual."

Regin blinked. She'd hoped that neither her mother nor sister would notice. She couldn't imagine what would happen if either of them discovered her plan to free Aska. Whether or not it worked remained to be seen. It was getting close to eleven o' clock, and Regin had still seen no sign of her. She'd desperately hoped Jarl had gotten her message, otherwise all was lost. But still, she could not allow any weaknesses to sneak through and expose her. The performance was not over.

"Perhaps I'm not as fond of parties as I used to be," she replied, though she'd wanted to say something else.

Ylva's unblinking hawk-like eyes remained on her, until, much to Regin's silent relief, she seemed to buy her explanation and nod. "Well, at least I know that your sister is," she said, "Speaking of whom, where is she?"

Regin looked around carefully at the great sea of people before her, until she spotted an unmistakable peach-colored silhouette making herself at home at the dessert table nearby. Knowing what might happen as soon as she told her, but not feeling the need to say otherwise, Regin pointed her out. "She's over there," she said.

Once Ylva spotted her, her eyes immediately widened at what she was doing, and she just as quickly rushed over to put a stop to it while Regin followed her. "Brynja!" she called, "How many times must I tell you not to eat with your gloves on?!"

Once Brynja saw her mother heading her way, she instantly froze before she could take another bite of chocolate cake. She hastily put it back and then straightened to appear as though she was simply minding her own business. "Whatever are you talking about?" she asked.

"Don't even start it!" Ylva exclaimed, though not really desiring to raise her voice, "Someone could have seen you!"

"I looked around first!" Brynja said, trying to remain calm, "Trust me, not even the princes were watching."

For a moment, Ylva seemed to look away. And when she looked back at Brynja, a skeptical eyebrow was raised. "You might want to think otherwise," she said.

"Why?" Brynja asked sarcastically. But just then, when she looked in the same direction as her mother, her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. There, standing in the middle of the room, was Loki, looking every bit as regal as the prince of Asgard he was. Instantly remembering their most momentous meeting only yesterday, Brynja quickly went to work grooming herself until she was sure she looked absolutely fetching.

But just as she was about to call his attention, someone else caught it right before she did with the exact same words. "Your Highness!" Both she and Loki looked to see what appeared to be a young woman with long, black, braided hair wearing a sapphire-blue dress. While Brynja couldn't see her face behind the rather exquisite mask, she could see that the woman's eyes were focused on the prize of her desires. She watched with complete dismay as the woman then went after the prince, who immediately tried to flee upon seeing her. All Brynja could do was simply cross her arms in disappointment, while Regin continued to hope that Aska would appear before midnight.

While the rest of the young women continued to occasionally gawk at one of the two princes, not too far away, their parents were overseeing the festivities with great satisfaction, especially their father, who scanned his eye and smiled proudly at the scene before him.

"It seems that my idea has proved successful," he told his wife, "It looks as though every young maiden in the realm came."

Frigga nodded. "But did you tell Loki of our decision?" she asked him.

"Why yes," Odin replied, "just before we entered."

"I should hope so," Frigga remarked, "because it has come to my attention that he isn't exactly enjoying himself."

Odin gave her an incredulous look. "I don't see why he should not!" he said, "He would be wise to at least try."

"Perhaps," Frigga momentarily agreed, "But don't expect for it to happen anytime soon."

While Odin occasionally appreciated his queen's advice, this time, he rolled his eye when she was not looking, and continued to watch over the ball as it gained further favor with the people, while Loki was doing the best he could to try and stay away from the one woman who seemed to be the night's champion in trying to gain his affection, and to no avail. He managed to get away to one of the far corners of the room, but still she followed him like a dog would follow its master.

"Oh come now your Highness!" Idunn insisted impatiently, "Just one more dance!"

Loki quickly spun around to face her, but remembered to be calm so as not to hurt her feelings. "Idunn, I've already danced twice with you," he said, "Could you please give me some space?"

Just then, he heard a familiar voice call out a familiar phrase of his. "Another!" Both Loki and Idunn then turned to see Thor throw his empty goblet into one of the fire pits, sending a blaze, the heat of which they immediately felt in waves, shooting halfway to the ceiling. It seemed to take the shape of a dragon, and those around him showed their approval of such a sight by applauding. Once it died down though, and once he saw his brother coming his way, Loki instantly realized he'd found his excuse to leave.

Turning toward Idunn for hopefully the last time that night, he asked, "Or, could you please give me some time to speak with my family?"

Idunn raised her eyebrows. For a moment, it looked as though she knew why he had asked that. But, nonetheless, perhaps knowing she couldn't refuse such an innocent request, she reluctantly nodded. "I suppose." But then, looking him straight in the eye one more time, she said, "I'll be waiting for you."

After giving a false smile, Loki nodded, and hurried hastily away from her and toward Thor, all the while wondering if he was ever going to escape this near constant threat of forced romance, which was not romance at all. And before he even stood in front of him, it seemed that Thor had instantly caught on to his apprehension.

"Well, brother," he said, looking as though he might smile, "I take it you aren't exactly having a good time?"

Despite his earlier sentiment toward him, Loki didn't feel the need to return the humor. "You could say so," he replied. He then turned around slowly so Thor would no longer see how fatigued he was already feeling. If he were really in the mood he would simply veil himself in smoke, and disappear to a place where no one could follow. It seemed though, that his tired state wanted to make itself known more than he desired.

"I was a fool to think she'd come," he said, "Why should she make an exception for me?"

"Because, you're the prince of Asgard?" Thor suggested.

"That did not seem to matter to her!" Loki retorted. He then allowed himself to pause though, when he realized that, as crazy as it might have seemed, there might have been some truth to his brother's words. "Then again, you weren't there when…" He trailed off, remembering that he hadn't exactly told his brother how he and the Phantom had kissed. Though they'd shared many secrets through the years, Loki wasn't immediately sure this was one he could tell.

"When what?" Thor then asked.

Well, that did it. Once Thor asked, there was usually no way around it. And, besides, what was the worst that could happen, other than giving Thor what would perhaps be the surprise of his life? Either way, Loki knew he couldn't keep him waiting. Ever the reluctant one, he turned around to face his brother, breathed deeply when he saw his somewhat eager face, and began. "Well, I…"

Suddenly, he was then broken off by the sound of gasps coming from almost everyone in the room. Even the music stopped somewhat abruptly. Both Thor and Loki quickly turned to see what all the near fuss was about, when Loki felt as though he would freeze like an ice statue at what he saw.

Across the room, standing at the top of the short flight of stairs that led to the hallways beyond, stood a lone woman wearing a pale yellow and purple dress that seemed almost to be interwoven with diamonds. The embroidered flowers that adorned the neckline and waist along with what appeared to be the pattern of branches on her skirt made her look as though she was an incarnation of the great Tree of Yggdrasil itself. Her hair fell past her shoulders in pale, gentle, water-like waves. But the feature about her that stood out the most to him was the purple masked bordered with gold. Even from where he stood, Loki immediately knew her to be the one he'd been waiting for. And now that she was here, nothing, not even all of the people gathered on the floor in front of him, was going to keep him from her.

* * *

The moment she stepped inside the ballroom, Aska stopped and stood still where she was at the top of the stairs. Before her stood a crowd of people unlike any she'd ever seen. All wore costumes of nearly every color imaginable: orange, magenta, green, and blue, and were made of just about every fabric imaginable: satin, silk, taffeta, and gauze. The masks she beheld were made of all sorts of designs from cats to hearts and so forth. Some were even decorated with feathers. And just as much as there seemed to be a sea of color in front of her, it also seemed one to be embroidered with gold and silver.

There were two fire pits on either side of the room. From the ceiling hung a chandelier that seemed to hold two dozen candles. The room itself looked as though to be made of the most solid, most purest gold. But Aska couldn't admire the scenery for long, as she quickly realized that almost all the faces in the crowd were now staring at her. Seeing such a sight made her stand even more still, as not so many people ever looked at her all at once. And yet, in that moment, when she received so much attention she might as well have been the only one of her kind in the realm, a sensation as strong as a lightning bolt seemed to hit her, and she quickly recalled a sense of familiarity, not just at the scene before her, but about the palace in general.

_I've been here before_, she thought. Though it didn't seem to make complete sense, Aska realized that this was what she was feeling whenever she went to the palace. It seemed now that she had been here many more times than she thought. But when?

Before she could answer that though, she heard the sound of footsteps coming in her direction. She looked, and immediately felt a pang of both nervousness and exhilaration, as she saw none other than Prince Loki, looking the most royal she'd ever seen him, and making his way toward her. His green cloak trailed behind him as he traveled up the stairs, and before long, the two were once again gazing at each other after what had felt like a much too long time. So intense was their shared interest and curiosity, that it took awhile for one of them to finally break the silence.

"Hello," Loki managed to say.

Feeling the need to respond, and formally, Aska lowered her eyes and curtsied the most gracefully she could. "Your Highness," she replied in a soft voice.

"I had a feeling you'd come," Loki said after she rose up again, giving a smile that instantly sent a butterfly or two through Aska.

Returning it, she replied, "Well, you asked so nicely, how could I not?"

Loki chuckled, causing her to chuckle as well, when he suddenly held out his hand. "Come," he said, "May I have the honor of introducing you to my parents?"

Aska's smile swiftly fled, as not only did she feel a shot of anxiety at approaching those who in the past could have called for her arrest, but she remembered the most important reason as to why she was here. "We might have met before," she said, shaking her head slightly, "And, there is something I'd like to discuss with you."

Loki was about to speak, presumably to ask what, when he then looked out at the crowd of people still staring at them before looking back at her. "I fear both will have to wait," he said. And before she could say anything else, he held out his hand again, and asked a question that instantly made Aska's heart racing like a wild horse. "Would you care to dance?"

Though she'd previously imagined the scene he was suggesting to her, Aska almost didn't know what to do. Part of her wanted to accept out of being polite, while another part of her genuinely wondered what it would be like to dance right at the side of one of Odin's sons. Mustering as much calm as she could, she replied in the only way she could think of. "With you? Right now?"

"You don't have to if you don't want to…"

Suddenly, upon hearing him say that, Aska almost immediately knew what she wanted to do. Trying to smile, she quickly interrupted him, saying, "No. No, I'd love to."

Aska watched as her smile seemed to make Loki's return, when she remembered that he was still holding his hand out. Slowly, but not without some slight hesitation, she placed her own hand in his, and instantly marveled at how warm it felt to her. Feeling that warmth transfer to her cheeks in the form of a blush, Aska looked away. But Loki didn't seem to mind, as the two then began their descent down the stairs and toward the floor that had now been largely cleared for them.

They made their way silently to the center of the floor together, where Loki bowed and Aska curtsied. Aska then put her right hand in his left, and put her left hand on his shoulder, while he put his right hand on her waist, which immediately made her feel as though she was both safe and facing danger at the same time. Fortunately, the prince's soft green eyes seemed to remind her to say something rather important.

"I should warn you I'm not much of a dancer," she said softly.

"Don't worry," he replied, "I'm sure you'll do fine." He then leaned slightly closer, so she could feel his breath on her face once she heard him say in a voice only the two of them would hear, "To tell you the truth, I'm not much of one either."

Before Aska could reply, she heard a rather lovely tune conjured by the musicians reach her ears, and before she knew it, she and Loki had begun dancing to it.

As they did, everyone in the room couldn't help but watch with intrigue as the young prince of Asgard seemed to glide around the floor with the most enchanting young lady many of them had ever seen. Immediately, questions began to spring up like flowers eager to grow, the most common one being "Who is that mysterious maiden?" To which, more than a few answers were suggested such as "Perhaps she is a princess?" and "Maybe is from a different realm." But of course, the guests were not the only ones to be watching with keen interest and asking similar questions.

As Odin beheld the scene before him with a wide eye, it wasn't long before he noticed the peculiar expression on his queen's face.

"What are you smiling like that for?" he asked her non-accusingly.

"I'm only happy because he finally is," Frigga replied, "Admit it, you didn't really think she would come."

Odin raised his eyebrow, as his wife never seemed to cease to surprise him. "No, I did not," he replied honestly.

"Well, she's here now, so, what do you think?"

Now that was a question he could answer willingly. "To tell you the truth, it makes me think of our courtship," he said as a smile crossed his face, "Of course, I knew who you were."

Frigga instantly let out a chuckle, both at that remark and at how fondly her husband seemed to remember their younger days together. She too silently admitted that the scene in front of her bore much resemblance to those good times. All she could do was continue to watch as it further unfolded.

Meanwhile, three otherwise ordinary noblewomen watch with as much intent, if not more so, as the prince and the masked maiden continued to dance. While one watched with a soft smile that she wished could be allowed to grow the longer she did, the other two frowned grimly and even seemed to stare almost menacingly at the new, charming arrival.

"Oh, how dare she!" Brynja said in a low voice through gritted teeth. She then leaned toward Ylva and asked, "Do you suppose it's her, Mother?"

"Indeed," Ylva replied in an equally low voice. As she continued to keep her sharp eyes on the two as they passed by them once more, she immediately knew that the theory that had just appeared in her mind had proved to be correct. "The Purple Phantom has arrived."

But no matter how many people seemed to be gawking at her and her partner, Aska kept her eyes on Loki's. And soon, the longer she did so, the less aware she became of the other guests in the ballroom, until it seemed as though they were the only ones there. Indeed, after Loki twirled her a couple of times and even dipped her, it became so mystifying that Aska bit her lip for a moment to make sure she was not dreaming. The slight pain concluded for her that she was not, but the fluttering of her heart kept telling her otherwise. Even so, despite both ideas which seemed to be in a weighing war in her mind, Aska couldn't help but smile as the enjoyment of an image that seemed impossible before coming to life before her very eyes got more and more grand. In fact, she began to feel less and less sure about leaving it at all.

* * *

As Loki continued to dance with the one woman in a sea of hundreds who'd captivated him so, his eyes remained on the two jewels that gazed back at him through her mask. How tempting it was to simply give into the thought of holding her for the rest of his existence. To touch her again, let alone see her again, sent him to a place in his mind he didn't know existed. It was a place where he could simply forget he was a prince and simply immerse himself into the enjoyments that even the lowest of common men knew. The longer he danced with her, the more he wanted to stay in that most elusive of lands, at least, until it seemed his own feet were more grounded in good sense than he was. Before he could even think about stopping, his feet began to slow, until the sound of applause that immediately greeted him just as quickly made him realize that both he and the woman ceased to dance.

"You're too modest," he then heard her say.

Loki slightly shook his head at being so suddenly drawn out of his near self-hypnosis. "What?"

"You told me you couldn't dance," the woman said.

He raised his eyebrows once he remembered what he told her, before somewhat nervously asking, "Well, what did you think?"

Almost against his expectations, the woman smiled a serene gem of a smile before replying, "It was wonderful."

So rare did her expression seem to him that Loki couldn't help but return it. For a brief moment he felt as though he might be entering that place in his mind again, when suddenly, his eyes widened as he remembered another place he was very fond of, one that, despite his previous ideas toward it, he felt he wanted to share, with her. And it appeared she noticed it almost as quickly as he did.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Um, would you mind if I showed you something?" he asked.

"What?"

Her curiosity was so charming, Loki let out a droll chuckle. "You'll see it when we get there." He then turned away from the crowd, which he now remembered was still there, and held out his arm for her to grasp onto. When he saw her slight hesitation, he assured her, "It's not that far a walk."

She looked at his arm, then at him, then back at his arm again, looking as though wavering between whether to say "yes" or "no." When it seemed as though she might refuse, however, the woman put her arm through his. Still, she looked a bit nervous, so Loki laid his free hand on hers before they walked out the ballroom and – thankfully – away from the sight of all those eagerly watching them.  


Together, they walked out onto a walkway suspended a few stories above the ground. Fortunately, only a few faces saw them in passing, allowing Loki to hope that his special place would be largely vacant tonight, if not completely. At one point though, he looked at the woman beside him, and through her mask he could see that she appeared both excited and nervous at the same time. But what could she be nervous about? Well, he still didn't know who she was. And, maybe after tonight, he would. Why she still seemed not to want to tell him instantly let a shot of confusion pass through him. But, since he did not want to upset her, he kept silent, until, at last, they made it to perhaps his favorite place in the realm.

Just as he'd hoped, Loki didn't see anyone else there. And the moment he heard her gasp, he immediately turned and just as quickly smiled when he saw the rather delighted look on her face. He imagined she might have that sort of expression, but he didn't think it would cause some light laughter to come from him.

"This is my favorite courtyard," he explained, "Sometimes I come here when I can't go anywhere else, even my own bedchamber."

"It's beautiful," the woman gasped again as she continued to stare at the beauty before her.

* * *

Aska had seen more than a few courtyards in her known life, but this one was definitely the most magnificent. It wasn't that big, but every inch was covered with something amazing. Two fountains that looked as they were made of solid gold stood in the front and the back. Both had statues of a stag and a doe brushing up lovingly against one another, and both had two stone benches bordering them.

The water seemed to sparkle and looked so crystal clear that Aska walked over and dipped her bare fingers in it to make sure it was real. And on the left and right, against the ledge and wall respectively, were lined several evergreen bushes holding the liveliest-looking flowers she'd ever seen. Roses, irises, carnations and so forth, all in a variety of colors even more diverse than those found in a rainbow, if such a thing were possible.

But the most incredible part of all was the dazzling view that greeted her once she looked out over the ledge. In addition to the silver lights of near countless stars, hundreds, if not thousands, of golden lights from all sorts of buildings met her wide eyes, nearly reaching the horizon. Aska couldn't help but let her mouth fall open, as she'd never seen the realm from this point of view before. To think, she'd once imagined not coming here tonight!

"Splendid!" she breathed. She turned around once she heard the prince laugh again. Such music there was in it.

"I'm glad you like it," he smiled.

Aska smiled back. "To think, you can see this sight whenever you wish!" she exclaimed, "Oh, you must feel so lucky!"

Despite hoping to hear his laughter again, instead, rather unexpectedly, Loki's smile slowly disappeared, turning into a frown. The sight almost immediately caused Aska to frown too, and she quickly wondered if she said something she shouldn't have. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Loki didn't reply at first. Aska watched as he sat down on one of the benches, almost silently inviting her to walk over and join him at his side. She grew a bit more alarmed when he continued to look at the floor rather than her, but she allowed herself to feel some relief when he began speaking again.

"If you knew what it was like to be a prince, you would think otherwise," he said.

Immediately, Aska felt confused. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, for one thing, you're almost never allowed to be completely alone," Loki explained, trying not to sound contemptuous though Aska heard it somewhat anyway, "You supposed to do all sorts of things that don't make sense. And if you refuse to do even one of them or if you mess up even once, suddenly your whole reputation is on the line."

Aska was almost mesmerized the whole time she listened, not only at how much he spoke to her like she was a close friend of his, but at how similar his dissatisfaction with the life he led seemed to her own. "Your Highness…"

"Please," he interrupted her, "call me Loki."

Aska raised her eyebrows. "Loki," she corrected herself, though actually saying his name seemed so odd. She then shook her head slightly when she remembered what she wanted to say, and continued. "Believe it or not, I think I know what you're talking about."

Loki looked back at her, his own eyebrows now raised. "What?"

"Well, I can't say much," Aska replied, "but, let's say I live a rather similar existence. And, it often feels like I only exist to do everyone's bidding."

"I know!" Loki exclaimed, almost surprising her, "For me it feels like I simply invite unrest the moment I step out of line."

"Right!" Aska nodded eagerly. And before she knew it, both she and Loki broke into small fits of laughter at the conversation they just had.

"Looks like we have more in common than we first thought," Loki said.

"I suppose," Aska nodded again in agreement.

Loki chuckled again, but this time, it sounded more nervous than humorous. Even his smile faded slightly.

"And, I should say, I wouldn't have told that to just anyone," he said.

"I understand," Aska tried to smile, though she herself was becoming a bit more anxious.

"I mean, what I'm trying to say is that, I've never met anyone like you."

Aska's smile returned, though only for a moment. "Nor you," she said.

Loki let out a small sigh, as if he wanted to make sense of something he wanted to say before he said it.

"When I'm around you, it feels like it's alright just to be myself," he said.

Aska blinked slowly at the way he said that, and at how much it suddenly meant regarding her. "You know," she said, "I think I've been feeling the same way."

Loki continued to gaze at her as he then went on to say, "Good, because, if you're going to live without love then, why bother living?"

Love? Hearing that word sounded so jarring, and yet, so natural at the same time. "Well, I don't know," Aska replied, thinking it to be the only thing she could say.

She then found that her own gaze was locked on his, and didn't know if she could escape it if she tried. Not only did she now see how excessively handsome he truly was, with his uniquely shaped face, his slicked-back hair that was just as dark if not more so than the night sky, and his green eyes that seemed both fierce and gentle at the same time. But now, knowing she had a rather deep thing in common with the prince, she almost didn't know what to think of it. And the word he brought up. Love. A word encompassing so many meanings, but Aska never dreamed it would be a possible word for she now seemed to feel toward him. She couldn't recall feeling this way about anyone else, which both frightened her and calmed her at once. How much she wished she could simply take off the mask right now, explain everything to him. And who knew? Maybe he truly would like her for who she was, seeing as he just stated that he felt that for himself. But, could she really do it?

Loki didn't know if there was another time that a dream of his seemed to blend so perfectly with the scene before him. As he continued to gaze at this woman so beautiful both inside and out under the obsidian sky, he couldn't help but notice that her eyes could very well replace the stars if they were allowed to. He encircled, slowly for fear of frightening her, her face with his finger, and couldn't think of another person he'd ever been so intimate, so personal with, as he had been with her just now. Just looking at her seemed to allow him to lose himself in that place in his mind he'd been so happy to discover. But while he did rather enjoy the mystery of not knowing who this woman was, even more so, he wished he could simply remove her mask. Though, to do so without her permission would obviously alarm her. Still, he couldn't help but lean closer toward her, close his eyes, and instantly feel a pleasure on his lips that was familiar but even more splendid than before.

The moment Aska realized he was going to kiss her, when she otherwise might have backed away, she felt so content and at ease that she couldn't help but close her eyes and give into the temptation. After two weeks that felt far too long, feeling his lips against hers once again made her heart nearly soar with euphoria. Indeed, time seemed to come to a halt the moment it happened. If the name of the intense feeling she felt toward Loki truly was the word love, then she'd never been so happy to find such an unexpected treasure. To be understood, in a way, by one such as him, made her want to stay here with him forever. That is…that is…

Suddenly, a great, almost forgotten fear, flared up in her mind like a fire in a dry field. So swiftly it had come, that it made her actually pull back away from him. Evidently, Loki quickly noticed the fear that seemed to make its way to her face, as he then frowned and asked, "What's wrong?"

"What time is it?" she asked, wondering how she could have so willingly put her mission in the back of her mind.

"Why?" Loki asked.

"Please, tell me," she said urgently.

"I think it's getting close to midnight," Loki replied.

Immediately, Aska's eyes widened. "Midnight," she breathed. She then looked away from him, not sure if she wanted to make anymore of her fear known. But he proved to be more perceptive than she was willing to give him credit for.

"Why are you so nervous now?" he asked her.

Forcing herself to look at him, Aska took his hand in hers, and stood up from the bench, causing him to stand as well.

"Loki, please, come with me," she insisted.

"Why?" he asked, "What's wrong?"

"I'll explain when we get there!" Aska replied. Without another word from either of them, she then led him hastily back the way they came, holding onto his hand with her left and holding onto her skirt with her right, and all the while feeling so incredibly stupid for not having thought of a plan the entire time she was here. Even if she did love Loki, she could not let sentiment get in the way of this most important of times. All she wanted now was to get back to the main ballroom. Hopefully she had at least ten minutes to think of what to do to stop Ylva before she could even start her own nefarious plan.

Before long though, they at last found their way back, and it didn't take too long for the rest of the people still gathered there to notice. Almost all of them gasped softly once they saw the evening's prime couple return, but Aska ignored their curious stares as she and Loki didn't stop, but continued further to where the king and queen of Asgard themselves stood. Approaching them again instantly brought back the image of how she'd first come across them in her mind. Despite her heart which began to beat rather nervously as a result though, she knew that she had to stand strong once she let go of Loki's hand, otherwise she would lose all focus and the mission along with it.

"Loki!" Frigga smiled, "You're back! With good news I hope!"

"Indeed," Odin agreed, "I think we are all in the mood for some rather uplifting notions."

"Your Majesties," Aska said as she curtsied hastily but respectfully, "Forgive my sudden reentry, but, the news I have for you is rather ill."

Immediately, concerned murmurs sprang up from the crowd behind her, but Aska continued to ignore them as she concentrated instead on the reactions of the two people in front of her.

"What are you talking about?" Odin asked, his smile having swiftly fled.

"In truth, I did not come here simply to see your son," Aska explained.

"Whatever do you mean?" Frigga asked, wanting a clearer explanation.

Aska was about to give her one, when the corners of her eyes behind her mask suddenly caught something dark. Looking toward it, she gasped slightly when she saw what appeared to be a small circle of darkness – a shadow perhaps? – and the slightest image of what appeared to be black just above it, almost as if it were hidden by a sinister device, one that instantly confirmed her earlier suspicions about what Ylva would do once everyone was distracted. Wasting no time, Aska hurried quickly over to the concealed figure, and let her hands fly out. She then grabbed onto what felt like fabric, just as she thought she would, and pulled. And once she did, almost everyone in the room combined their voices to give one loud gasp of shock at the scene that unfolded before they were able to process it.

Right before dozens of stunned onlookers who immediately froze like stone, a masked woman dressed in a black bodice – and leggings, and boots, which Aska immediately realized must have been part of her plan too – was revealed, and just a few feet away from Odin and Frigga. Just as quickly, Aska saw the eyes behind the equally as black mask stare threateningly, almost murderously, at her. However, Aska quickly remembered that she wasn't the one with a disadvantage.

"I've come to stop her your Majesty!" she declared, "She's come here to steal your staff!"

"My staff?!" Odin asked incredulously as the crowd again gasped in disbelief, "How do you know of this?!"

Knowing of the grave consequences that could come from answering him honestly, but feeling no desire to answer him any other way, Aska mustered all of the courage she could, and replied in a loud, clear voice, "Because I was there when she revealed it to me!"

She then looked at the woman who went from being her less-than-pleasant mistress to her worst enemy in less than a day, and saw that the intention to kill clearly adorned her already red face, never mind that she was wearing a mask. But Aska, who had begun rather tired of feeling more than a bit frightened towards her, stared back with just as great, if not more, intensity, daring her almost to go through with her intent.

But before Aska, or anyone else, could predict her next move, in a manner that seemed somewhat familiar to Aska, Ylva quickly rushed toward Odin, snatched his staff, and targeted a powerful magic blast his way, sending him halfway across the room. Odin immediately let out a shout, while Frigga, Loki, and everyone else in the room gave their greatest, most horrified gasp. But Aska's eyes remained on Ylva as she then headed toward the entrance to the dense hallways beyond, easily brushing aside the two guards who tried to stop her with a wave of the staff that instantly brought out a nearly exploding blue wave.

She had taken up her skirt and was just starting to go after her, when suddenly, she heard a male voice behind her call, "Wait! Where are you going?"

Aska turned around to see Loki rush up to her side, looking very much concerned about what she might be thinking about doing. Nevertheless, now that Aska was fiercely focused on seeing her mission to the end, the time had come to tell the prince of her true intentions.

"Loki, if I don't stop her, she'll use the staff to break the seal in Jotunheim!" she explained.

She'd hoped he'd understand, yet, strangely, he seemed to reply in the negative. "I don't know. She's probably too dangerous to take on alone!"

Aska's mouth fell open, as this was probably the first time she'd heard an objection that affected her so deeply, but, like with most objections, she responded to this one in a similar manner. "I've got to try!" she exclaimed. Just then, she quickly noticed how Loki's hand seemed to be ready to grab her. Knowing he might never let go once he had her, Aska spun around as swiftly as she could, and took off just as fast away from him.

Loki could hardly believe what was happening as he watched the masked woman run from him. Just as she was getting near the entrance, he called out in a loud, commanding voice, "Guards! Stop her!" Both immediately heard him, and tried to move in front of her, but Loki quickly remembered just how capable of a fighter she was, as she quickly and somewhat easily shoved the two aside, and continued further down the hall after perhaps the greatest evil either of them had come across in a while. Even so, Loki was not going to be left alone. He was not going to lose who he knew to be the love of his life again. Without looking back, he hurried after her.

Even though she'd just come through these hallways only once, Aska had almost little to no trouble finding her way, as she had Ylva's footsteps, which she heard ahead of her, as a makeshift guide. But she also had to move fast, because she now heard Loki in the same halls she just passed through. Still, she had to stay a good few steps ahead of him. Despite the feelings she admitted she still had toward him, she could not let him or anyone else stop her from trying to stop Ylva.

When Loki caught sight of her, he tried one way, then another, of trying to get her to stop. He called out to her in a concerned manner, "Wait, come back! Please come back!" He also tried calling out to her in a commanding voice he didn't think he'd have to use toward her. "Halt! As a prince of Asgard I order you to halt!" But neither worked. She continued to hasten down the halls away from him. But if she would do that, then he would continue to go after her.

Before long, Aska came to a stairway. She lifted her skirt and traveled down as fast as she could, but she realized a bit too late that she might have been going too fast. Before she could make it to the bottom, she missed a step and tripped, and would have headed straight for the floor had she not had the good reflexes to grab hold of the banister. But when she did finally get to the bottom floor, something immediately didn't feel right. Aska turned around and her eyes widened as she saw that one of her slippers had slipped off. She reached out to take it up, but heard a now familiar voice call out once again. "Wait!"

Realizing there was no time to even try, Aska once again spun around and ran even faster than before down the last hallway that she could see led to the familiar entrance outside. Even so, a grim frown formed on her face, as she silently apologized to the man who at least cared enough to see her safe. Still, the mission had to come first. Though a slight pain traveled through her heart as she then made her way outside, she could not let any obstacle stand in her way.

As soon as Loki made it to the bottom of the stairs, his eyes fell on what he knew to be her slipper, made, most peculiarly, of glass. He couldn't help but take it up in his hand, and gaze at its wondrous nature that so reminded him of its owner, when he immediately remembered why he was out here to begin with. Once Loki spotted her heading for the outside, he rushed twice as fast as before down the hall and then outside at the entrance to the palace. He searched the area quickly, and his eyes widened once he saw her mounting her horse. He continued after her down the marble stairs, but soon, despite his best efforts it seemed, he was forced to watch as she set her horse off in a fast and steady canter away from him, leaving him to stare in dismay as the Purple Phantom once again slipped just out of reach of his grasp.

For Loki, it was as though his determined fire had been suddenly and unexpectedly doused. He forced himself to look away, not only because he knew he couldn't stop her simply by looking at her, but because he also did not dare to think about possibly losing her to the woman he immediately reasoned to be from Jotunheim. Indeed, at first, all of it seemed to much to bear, until, as if in answer to his silent distress, he heard one of the guards ask, "What shall we do your Highness?"

Loki turned to him, about to answer that nothing could be done, when, suddenly, he got an idea, one that he instantly found he desperately wanted to work. It seemed to immediately give a spark back to the once vibrant fire within him. If he could not stop his beloved, then, perhaps he could help her in her otherwise perilous situation.

He stood tall, showing the guard his seriousness, and replied, "Tell my brother, Lady Sif, and the Warriors Three to be ready as soon as possible, and to meet me here." He then looked out at the nighttime scene that suddenly now seemed much darker than before, but he knew he would nonetheless bravely face it as he declared, "We're going to Jotunheim."

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